15 – Shao Qing
S hao Qing hadn’t taken a bath in over a month.
Just as dawn cracked, he entered the public bathhouse. A few pools of steaming water dotted the room, soaking the air in fog. The bathhouse owner gave him a towel and a cake of soap before showing him down to a pool situated in a far corner.
As it was early in the day, the water was still fresh. Shao Qing stripped off and submerged himself. The heat eased his muscles. After sniffing his underarms, he realized that he did, in fact, stink. He wondered why he hadn’t noticed before.
He put the soap to good use.
When he finished scrubbing himself, Shao Qing laid his head back, watching the swirls of steam rise from his bathwater. It was an insignificant thing, something he wouldn’t have paid any mind to three days ago. Now, he observed the water vapors dance and dissolve into nothingness, wondering how Zhi Lan with her artist’s eye would interpret something so inconsequential. What would it be like to view the world through her eyes? How vivid colors and objects would be. He didn’t even have the capacity to imagine it.
Shao Qing didn’t realize how long he had been there until more patrons entered the bathhouse. The morning was growing late.
“Did you hear? Magistrate Bu caught the thief he was hunting for!” a man exclaimed. “He turned himself in not ten minutes ago. Struck the bell himself!”
“Good riddance! Now he can finally listen to his petitioners.”
“We may have to wait until tomorrow. Apparently his lordship is sentencing the man today.”
“Do you think there will be a public beheading?”
“I hope not. It’ll hold up the traffic.”
Shao Qing considered this. A thief was caught, yet it wasn’t him. Had it been someone in Yao’s group?
His musings were answered when sometime later, Yao himself bustled through the front doors of the bathhouse along with half the gang. They approached just as Shao Qing was getting out of the pool.
“Why this sudden obsession with hygiene, Brother Qing?” Wei asked, sitting himself noisily on the damp bench beside him.
Nan You gave a low whistle as his gaze dropped. “Nice dragon, Brother Qing. Not so little after all, huh?”
Shao Qing covered himself with his towel.
Yao, Xuan Bo, and Nan You joined Wei on the bench.
“You owe us a story, eh?” Xuan Bo leaned forward and clasped his hands on his knees. “Tell us how the heist with your girl went.”
It appeared that Yao had told everyone about Shao Qing’s excursion to Magistrate Li’s manor. They were all curious about how it had gone, and about his new “lady friend”.
Shao Qing didn’t indulge them. He pulled on his clothes. “I heard Magistrate Bu caught his thief. Allegedly he turned himself in.”
This seemed to surprise them all.
“Really?” Wei whispered, his eyes wide. “It isn’t one of us, as far as I know. It might be a trick to let our guard down.”
“Or his lordship truly means to wash his hands of it. Why not grab any old fellow and pin the blame on him? It’s a classic ploy for any magistrate to avoid a demerit and save face. It’ll appear like a just, swift sentencing,” Yao said.
They all sat there, contemplating.
Shao Qing wondered if the sudden whirlwind of events of the last few days had finally come to an end. Magistrate Bu was no longer pursuing him. Zhi Lan had her painting back. Well, her ruined painting. He wondered if she was alright. Would she find him again, like she said? Or was she in trouble and trapped in the magistrate’s manor?
The thought bothered him. It would be idiotic to go back to check. Yet...
Nan You thumped Shao Qing’s back. “Brothers, let’s go to The Peony Pagoda!”
“But it’s so early,” Wei said, appalled.
Nan You smoothed a hand over his goatee. “Perhaps you’re too young to know, little Wei, but a man can enjoy wine and women at any hour of the day.”
“Well, I suppose it is time for breakfast. Their dishes are not bad,” Yao conceded. “What do you say, Brother Qing?”
Shao Qing nodded. He had nowhere else to go, anyhow.
“Wei, you had better stay behind,” Yao said. “You’re too young for these vices.”
Wei frowned and sulked, but eventually left.
Shao Qing followed the rest of the men to the place of his alleged birth.
***
M OST MEN DRANK TO NUMB themselves. Shao Qing drank to feel something.
It didn’t signify that the only thing he felt was ill and hot in the face, but it was better than the odd, dull ache in his chest. Some sort of forlorn longing, as if he wished to relive last night, when Zhi Lan had ranted at him—not to argue over some principle they disagreed on—but for his well-being. When had anyone ever done that?
Yao sat across from Shao Qing at a small square table. The other two were seated in an adjacent chamber, separated by beaded curtains behind which several courtesans cooed and giggled over them. Yao was ever loyal to his wife, but he frequented the pleasure house to chug their wine, which he claimed was one of the best in the city. Shao Qing couldn’t taste the difference.
“So. How did it go?” Yao asked in a low voice.
“It was successful, but unsuccessful,” Shao Qing said.
Yao barked a laugh. “Two days with a scholar painter and you’re already speaking in riddles. So what, you got the painting but lost the girl? Was the young miss scared off by your condition?”
“My...condition?”
“You’re unnatural. Cursed.”
Shao Qing looked up. “You knew?”
“I know the look of those demon-touched,” Yao said, tapping his eye. “You have it all over you.”
“Why take me in then?”
“A good thief is a good thief. I don’t discriminate. And you did save my life,” he said with a shrug. “Although all those reckless behaviors you’ve been engaging in have been getting on my last nerve. Tell me. What happened to you?”
Shao Qing swallowed his nausea. The pink drapery and gaudy furniture of the pleasure house swam in his vision. In a low voice, he gave an abbreviated account of his bargain with the bamboo demon. Zhi Lan was the first person he’d told his story to in its entirety. She might be the last.
“You exchanged your soul to become fearless?” Yao asked incredulously. “How are you still alive?”
“It took my soul, not my life.”
“The only reason any of us are alive is because we fear death. Fear protects us. Only dead fools are fearless.”
“I did not think it was an unreasonable exchange,” Shao Qing said.
Yao shook his head at this. “Hm. So she left, then? I don’t see any woman tolerating you in this state.”
Shao Qing took another swig of wine, even as his throat burned in protest. “She wants to help me find my soul.”
Yao’s eyes nearly popped out of its sockets. “Really?”
“I don’t know if I want it back.”
“Of course you don’t want it back, you don’t even have the capacity to care!” Yao exclaimed. “She is right, however. It is not a matter of want, but need. A body is meant to have a soul, Brother Qing. It is the natural order of things.” He patted his stomach, which let out a loud gurgle. “Speaking of nature, I need to find a privy.”
Yao stood up and disappeared through a curtain, shooing off the courtesans that scampered after him.
Shao Qing returned to his drink, considering what Yao had said. He supposed it was true, but he still couldn’t bring himself to regret the bargain. He wondered if that was how things were going to be from now on. An ocean of passivity, with nothing and no one to break up the endless waters.
A courtesan in white approached the table. Shao Qing waved a dismissive hand.
“I don’t need your services.”
He was suddenly assaulted by a hard poke on the side of his head. He looked up, disoriented. When his vision refocused, he saw Zhi Lan standing over him with her hands on her hips.
“I didn’t know you worked here,” he slurred. “Or have you come to enjoy the women with me?” He was goading a reaction out of her, and was satisfied when she scowled.
She had come for him, like she said.
“You don’t enjoy anything, Shao Qing.” Zhi Lan sat beside him in a huff, more irate than usual. Her robe was crinkled at the shoulder, her collar slightly askew. A purplish bruise peeked out from above her collarbone.
Without thinking, Shao Qing grazed his fingertips over it. She startled, but didn’t move away. Her skin was soft like a flower petal. He would’ve dared to explore further if Zhi Lan didn’t finally shake him off.
“Just so you know, I don’t work here,” she said gruffly, straightening her robe.
“Is that bruise recent?”
“I’m alive, that’s all that matters.”
Shao Qing drank her in, remembering what she had told him last night. It seemed almost...unreal that she cared so much.
Zhi Lan looked around, raising her brows at the courtesans giggling and serving their patrons. “Why are you here so early? It’s broad daylight!”
Shao Qing took another swig of his wine. “There’s no place more fitting for me to be. I was born here. Maybe I’ll die here too.”
Zhi Lan grabbed the jar of wine from him, sloshing some on herself. She didn’t seem to notice. “Magistrate Bu is looking for a thief—well, he’s looking for you. You’re not safe here.”
“Magistrate Bu has already found his thief. The whole city knows.”
A crease appeared between her eyebrows. “What? That can’t be. He was intent on finding you just this morning.”
Shao Qing shook his head, but the action only made the room spin. “He must have found someone to take my place. I told you. He only cares to save face.” He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fingers to his temple.
“Does this place serve sober-up soup?” Zhi Lan asked. Her voice sounded far away.
“Yes, miss!”
“Get me a bowl, please.”
When Shao Qing opened his eyes, a courtesan came back with a bowl. Zhi Lan thanked her and set the bowl in front of him. Noodles floated in clear broth with sliced beef and a boiled egg. Zhi Lan thrust a pair of chopsticks and a soup spoon into his hands.
“Eat. Once you’re feeling better we can talk.” She looked concerned. Something about that was comforting.
Shao Qing obeyed. The soup didn’t taste like anything, but it was hot and soothed his throat. He was slightly less nauseated when he finished. “What do you have to say to me?” he finally said.
Her face was serious. “I think I’ve found your soul, Shao Qing. It’s been right under our noses. Magistrate Bu has it.”
Shao Qing sat very still. “How do you know it’s mine?”
Zhi Lan bit her lower lip. “I don’t. But there’s a chance it might be.” She looked at him hesitantly. “Are you willing to follow me and find out?”
This was different from her forceful speech the other night. Something had shaken her resolve, and Shao Qing didn’t know what.
“I’ll follow you anywhere.” He felt that they were the truest words he had ever spoken. Zhi Lan was like a rock in the middle of his ocean. He had never felt more awake than in her presence.
Zhi Lan’s cheeks turned pink. “Oh.” She tilted her head and leaned toward him as she inhaled, her lashes fluttering. “Did you...bathe?”
Shao Qing held his breath. The air around his neck felt hot. Zhi Lan was close enough that he could lift her chin and kiss her if he wanted to. The errant thought startled him.
Did he want to?
“What’s this, Brother Qing? A scholar girl? Are they catering to all sorts of tastes now?” Nan You came noisily through the beaded curtain, then stopped before them. He whistled. “Not bad.”
Zhi Lan stood suddenly, rattling the table. There was a feral glint in her eye. “I do not work here so cease gawping at me unless you want your eyes gouged out!”
Nan You raised his hands in surrender. “Apologies, miss.”
Zhi Lan brushed off her robes in disgust. “Men.”
Shao Qing stood too. “I’m leaving, Nan You. Tell Yao when he comes back.”
They left a sheepish Nan You behind them as they started for the stairs.