The Lotus Palace. Jeannie Lin
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wasn’t really from the Kingdom of Silla,” she said impatiently. “It’s merely a story that Madame Lui conjured up to lend an air of exoticism to her prize courtesan.”
“Well, Huilan did reply in Sillan,” he noted. “We exchanged a few pleasantries, before speaking in Han again. At first there was nothing unusual about the conversation. She inquired about my family and my travels outside of Changan. Then she asked about leaving the ward.”
“Could she have been looking for you to redeem her?” Yue-ying asked, sipping her tea.
“I thought so at first, but she had wealthy protectors already.”
“It’s quite a different thing for an admirer to visit a courtesan in the entertainment district as opposed to bringing her home as a concubine,” she pointed out. “As far as I know, no one had made a bid for her.”
“Do you ever think of it?”
“Of what?”
“Of leaving the Pingkang li.”
“I don’t spend time dreaming, Lord Bai.” She smoothed her hair down over the side of her face, her fingers just grazing over her birthmark. “Besides, I have a good life here. What did you want to know about the gathering?”
He could see why she was overlooked in the shadow of her famous mistress. Not because of her appearance. Mingyu had a softly curved and sultry beauty whereas Yue-ying was thinner in the face, fine-boned with a restrained sensuality that intrigued him. But Yue-ying was constantly hiding herself, trying to make herself small. Even in conversation, she couldn’t stand to speak of herself for more than a few words at a time.
That brief moment when their lips had touched in the wine cellar continued to torment him. His heart had been pounding, every muscle in his body tense with anticipation before she had soundly put him in his place with a slap across the face. He had thought he was finally getting close to Yue-ying, when he was never further away.
“Who was there at the banquet?” he asked, forcing himself back to the matter at hand.
“The banquet was sponsored by an official from the Ministry of Commerce. There were merchants and wealthy businessmen in attendance.” Yue-ying rubbed a hand over her temples. “Will you add those to the names from the Hundred Songs? The list keeps growing.”
They both sipped their tea, temporarily at a standstill. It was possible Huilan had seen or heard something important. Influence was traded at such gatherings. Secrets were exchanged. It was one of the reasons Huang spent so much time wandering happily from parlor to parlor. If only Huilan had seen fit to confide in him. If only everyone in the North Hamlet didn’t speak in such cursed riddles all the time.
“Let us concentrate on this gathering for now. Tell me everything you can remember about Huilan that night.”
He’d seen how carefully Yue-ying observed everyone and everything around her. If something significant had occurred, she would have made note of it; he was confident of that.
Yue-ying placed her palms together and propped her chin on top of them, eyes closed. He watched with fascination as the thoughts flitted across her face.
“The event was located on a pleasure boat docked in a waterway to the north of the East Market. I didn’t recognize most of the guests. Some of them were from foreign lands.” When she opened her eyes, her expression appeared troubled. Her fingers traced a restless pattern over the wood, back and forth. “I left early that night. I had forgotten about that.”
“You said Huilan was upset,” he prodded.
His question snapped her back to attention. “It was strange. Huilan was playing the pipa and she stopped midsong. Something had distracted her. She finally managed to finish the song, but she was very flustered afterward. Mingyu tried to calm her. I think that was when Mingyu decided she had too many problems to worry about and sent me home.”
“Problems?”
“I’m afraid of boats,” she confessed. She moved on quickly. “Mingyu returned later that night, but didn’t say anything. She was exhausted because it was so late.”
“Did you notice anything at the banquet that might have made Huilan nervous?”
“Not particularly. Maybe someone said something untoward to her. Merchants can be a crude lot. Many of them are too uncultured to know the difference between a courtesan and a prostitute.”
Once again, her hand strayed to her cheek. He had watched over the past half hour while she absently tucked, untucked and rearranged her hair, inadvertently drawing attention to the part of her she most wanted to obscure. The bloodred mark that made her so unique. She was always fidgeting and trying to cover her face or angle herself away. Unable to ignore it any longer, he reached out and pressed his hand gently over hers to stop her.
Huang knew he’d made a mistake when her fingers stiffened beneath his touch and she pulled away entirely, sitting as far back in her chair as she could, shoulders straight. “I should be getting back.”
He paid for the tea and had to make an extra effort to follow her as she deftly wove around the tables and moved down the stairs. He caught up to her, but remained silent as he matched her pace down the street.
“If people see us together in the North Hamlet, there will be talk,” she said, keeping her focus straight ahead.
He was forced to direct his statement to her unmovable, unwavering profile. “You don’t have to worry about your reputation with me.”
There was a pause before she pulled ahead. He caught only the trailing end of her reply.
“I am more concerned with what people will think of you, Lord Bai.”
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