18 – Zhi Lan
S hao Qing had a near psychotic fit, kissed her in a most wanton manner, then fainted right onto her lap.
Scoundrel.
Never mind that she rather liked it.
Zhi Lan regarded the unconscious Shao Qing, her mouth still burning and her breath still short from his kisses. He had tasted like chrysanthemum wine, heady and aromatic. And if she wasn’t mistaken, he had bathed. He smelled like fresh clothes and some sort of woodsy soap. His hair was slightly damp beneath her fingers.
She sat very still, considering what just happened. She was sure he had only been momentarily overtaken by ardor and she just happened to be the first woman he set his eyes on. It made sense. Who knew what he had been in the middle of before she found him in the pleasure house? Having his soul back probably amplified such desires.
Zhi Lan had to admit that passing curiosity was the reason for her consent. She had never been kissed before, and Shao Qing was a handsome man. But that kiss! It was as if he had been making love to her with nothing but his mouth.
Her face flamed at this thought. She couldn’t tell who had taken advantage of whom.
With some effort, Zhi Lan pushed him against the wall again so he was slumped upright. She patted his cheek. “Hey.”
He didn’t stir. Zhi Lan gingerly held a finger under his nose, relieved when she felt him exhale. He was still alive, at least.
She considered what to do. She could go get Master Dan. But she confessed she didn’t want to think about her master after what had just happened. Besides, how was an elderly man and a girl supposed to drag an unconscious thief out of the room without notice?
It wouldn’t do. The only way Shao Qing was getting out of this manor was on his own two feet.
Zhi Lan tucked two arms underneath his armpits and strained to stand. She managed to lift him to his knees before hers gave out. Skies, he was heavy!
She looked toward the door uneasily, worried that someone would come in and see them.
Impatiently, Zhi Lan shook Shao Qing’s shoulders. “Wake up.”
His eyelids twitched, but did not open.
“I have a headache,” he murmured.
“Let’s go back to my room,” she said, taking his arm. “Can you stand?”
Shao Qing stood very slowly, as if he were an old man with brittle bones. He still didn’t open his eyes.
Zhi Lan pulled him forward. Shao Qing stumbled headlong into the circular shelf. It was a decorative piece of furniture that didn’t have much heft to it despite being stacked full of scrolls and treasures.
It teetered precariously backward. Zhi Lan gasped, running to the other side to prop it up—but it was too late. The contents of the shelf crashed to the ground in a deafening cacophony.
Exclamations sounded from outside. The door to the art room burst open.
“What is going on here?” Magistrate Bu bellowed, dressed in his official’s robe and hat.
Zhi Lan froze.
Shao Qing chose that moment to vomit the contents of his stomach onto Scenery of the Spring Palace .
***
“A TERRIBLE CRIME HAS been committed beneath my roof!” Magistrate Bu cried.
They knelt on the cold stone floor before the magistrate, who was seated behind an elevated desk. His presence loomed over the hall lined with guards standing at attention. Each of them held a long bamboo rod, ranging from heavy to light—a reminder of the inevitable punishment to come. Beside the magistrate’s desk stood his secretary, who kept his head bowed as he recorded the proceedings.
Zhi Lan had never been inside the tribunal of a yamen before. She had a feeling this would be her last time, for better or for worse.
Shao Qing knelt beside her, looking sick to his stomach. He had still been dry heaving when the guards dragged them into the yamen —which only made her more worried for him. She almost wished he was back to his old soulless self.
Magistrate Bu slammed his desk. “Nong Zhi Lan. You have brought a criminal into my home. You have assisted this thief with his crimes against me after I have shown you and your master nothing but generosity. Do you plead guilty?”
She could plead whichever way and it wouldn’t matter. Magistrate Bu was the sole prosecutor and judge, and it was within his power to rule however he pleased. But Zhi Lan would say her piece no matter what.
She raised her chin stiffly. “I do not, your lordship. I have not assisted a thief in any crime against you.”
She had assisted Shao Qing in a crime against another magistrate. But that was neither here nor there.
Magistrate Bu narrowed his eyes. “Do you deny bringing this vermin into my home today? I have asked my guards. He is the same man you were seen with on the day you left.”
Zhi Lan pressed her lips together. This she could not deny, even though she wished to be contrary. Hopelessness crashed over her. She had gotten herself into deep, deep trouble—but she couldn’t bring herself to regret anything she had done that led up to this moment.
The magistrate took her silence as admittance.
“Nong Zhi Lan. You are charged with deceiving an official. According to imperial law, you deserve fifty strikes and five years of hard labor,” Magistrate Bu said, his eyes glittering dangerously. “Unless you wish to plead guilty and repent for your crimes. I am not an ungenerous man.” He looked at her with meaning.
Zhi Lan clenched her jaw. He was offering again. Disgust roiled in her gut.
“Nothing will compel me to share your bed, magistrate,” Zhi Lan said, unable to hold this back. She was proud her voice didn’t waver. “I will take whatever punishment you deem fit. Except that.”
Magistrate Bu’s face grew beet red.
“Preposterous! I suggested no such thing, you fox spirit!” He pounded his desk and pointed at Shao Qing. “And you. What is your name?”
“Shao Qing,” he said hoarsely. He still looked sickly and pale.
“No family name?”
“No, your lordship.”
“Unsurprising,” the magistrate said with a sneer. “You’re the thief who stole from me. Do you plead guilty?”
Shao Qing’s breaths were shallow. He looked almost...afraid. Zhi Lan wished she could comfort him.
“I do, your lordship,” Shao Qing said, lowering his head.
Zhi Lan started at this. She had not expected him to confess—in fact, she had hoped he would lie and weasel his way out somehow. Had his soul made an honest man out of him?
What rotten luck.
Magistrate Bu smiled smugly. “Thieving from a bureaucrat is a capital offense. You’re to hang at dawn.”
Zhi Lan couldn’t breathe. She looked to Shao Qing, who merely closed his eyes at the sentencing.
This was her fault.
If she hadn’t insisted on getting his soul back, he would have never returned to Magistrate Bu’s manor and fallen into his clutches. Now Shao Qing was to die—and feel every torturous moment leading up to it.
“I’m sorry,” Zhi Lan said, her vision blurring with tears.
Shao Qing met her gaze, his eyes a warm, dark brown. “Don’t be.”
Magistrate Bu scoffed. “Drag Miss Nong outside for her beating.”
Two guards grabbed her arms, pulling her from her knees. Zhi Lan noticed that they held the thickest of the bamboo rods. She felt faint. How was she going to survive fifty strikes of that ?
Shao Qing suddenly prostrated himself on the ground. “Let me take the beating for her. Miss Nong is of weak constitution. She will not be fit for the rest of her sentence if she suffers this.”
“Are you defying me, thief?” Magistrate Bu barked.
“Let me take the beating.”
“If you’re so eager, you may have fifty strikes of your own. Guards! Take them both outside.”
Two men grabbed Shao Qing roughly from the ground.
“Shao Qing, are you an idiot?” Zhi Lan cried. His gallantry had only provoked the magistrate and now they both had to suffer.
“I won’t be a coward again,” Shao Qing said fiercely. His jaw was set in a determined line and Zhi Lan could only look at him, helpless.
Where was the soulless thief without principles when she needed him?
Suddenly, deep resonate peals rang through the tribunal. Zhi Lan felt the vibration to her bones. Someone had struck the bell outside, demanding an audience.
“Not so fast,” a familiar voice cried out.
To Zhi Lan’s astonishment, Lady Bu walked in with nothing short of a crowd behind her. She spotted a pair of guards, Magistrate Li, an old woman, a dirty stranger bound in ropes, and a middle-aged man who looked extremely familiar.
The man stopped in his tracks, gazing at Shao Qing with shock and unrestrained emotion.
“Wife!” Magistrate Bu barked from his desk. “You go too far! I am in the middle of a ruling.”
“This is relevant to your ruling,” Lady Bu said. “You yourself have committed a crime against my family. It relates to this young man.” She gestured to Shao Qing, still in the guards’ grasp. “Let them go and let us talk civilly.”
The guards let Zhi Lan and Shao Qing back to the ground. Zhi Lan rubbed her shoulders, wincing.
“What crimes do you speak of?” Magistrate Bu demanded, scowling. “Why have you brought this riff raff?”
“Interesting choice of words,” Magistrate Li said, stepping forward. “I would not consider myself riff raff .”
Magistrate Bu’s face darkened at the sight of the older man. “Good riddance. Have you not your own city to rule over?”
“Ruling is for our emperor. I merely enforce justice on his behalf. And you, Magistrate Bu, have caused my family much injustice.”
Magistrate Bu sputtered. “What right do you have to make such claims?”
Magistrate Li narrowed his eyes. “Madam Xuan, please step up.”
The old woman behind him did so. Her back was bent with age and her coarse gray hair was done up with a plain wooden hairpin. Her face was so wrinkled it looked like a prune.
“Who is this woman?” Magistrate Bu sputtered.
“Don’t tell me you don’t recognize your own cronies,” Magistrate Li said. “Madam, do you wish to remind his lordship?”
“Twenty years ago, I was a nanny. Your lordship gave me nine silver taels,” Madam Xuan said.
Magistrate Bu’s face grew white, then red. “I recall no such thing!” he bellowed. “What use do I have for a nanny?”
Zhi Lan watched all this in bewilderment, looking from the old woman to Magistrate Li to the middle aged man. She knew why he looked familiar now—he was the spitting image of Shao Qing. She turned to the thief kneeling beside her. Shao Qing looked as lost as she felt.
“You placed me in Magistrate Li’s household, to care for Master Wen Jun’s newborn child,” Madam Xuan said. “I was told to take the child away in the night.”
“Ridiculous! A raving madwoman!” Magistrate Bu’s face was blotchy. A shiny sheen of sweat coated his forehead.
Madam Xuan continued on, unbothered. “I traveled here to Zhu City and put the baby behind a brothel called The Peony Pagoda. When I told you the deed was done, you rewarded me the silver.”
“What was the date?” Magistrate Li said calmly.
“The twenty-eighth day of the ninth month.”
Magistrate Li looked to Shao Qing. “What day were you found by the orphanage, young man?”
Shao Qing looked up, his face pale. “The twenty-ninth day of the ninth month.”
Magistrate Li withdrew a few papers from his sleeve. “In case you insist on denying this, magistrate, I have personally visited the nearest orphanage from The Peony Pagoda today. Their records indicate that an infant boy by the name of Shao Qing had indeed entered their establishment on that day.”
Magistrate Bu’s eyes bulged. “So what? Are you claiming kinship with this boy? This criminal ?”
“I am,” a quiet, though commanding voice said. It was the middle-aged man, who Zhi Lan figured was Li Wen Jun, Magistrate Li’s son and Shao Qing’s birth father. Wen Jun stepped up beside his alleged son.
The resemblance was uncanny—and undeniable. They had the same straight nose, angled jaw, and slanted brows. Only Wen Jun had graying hair at his temples and worry lines around his mouth.
Zhi Lan felt like she was watching an opera unfold. Shao Qing, the long-lost grandson of a magistrate? She felt her head spin, and she swallowed the absurd urge to laugh at the irony.
“And what of it?” Magistrate Bu said, scowling. “Why would this old woman confess such a thing now?”
“I am to pass soon. I wish to free my soul of sins,” the old woman croaked. “I have put your silver to good use, my lord, and it has helped my family greatly. But it is black money, and I have no wish to bear this secret any longer.”
Magistrate Bu sputtered. “This is entirely unrelated to the case of thievery!”
“Funny my lord would mention that,” Lady Bu said. “Your thief seems to have missed his trial.”
The pair of guards dragged up the dirty stranger bound in ropes. Zhi Lan didn’t recognize him at all—not that she could see much of his face past the dirt and the matted hair. Was this another long-lost relative?
“I found this man detained here last night. But he was let out again this morning to ring the bell and turn himself in,” Lady Bu said. “The guards say he was the thief who stole from you, and this man admitted to it when I asked him. Imagine my surprise when I heard you had found another thief this morning.”
Zhi Lan expected Magistrate Bu to rant and rave again, but he remained silent, his thin lips pressed into a trembling line.
Magistrate Li considered this. “Did you steal a prized painting from Magistrate Bu?” he asked the rope-bound man.
The man whimpered. “N-no. Yes. I...Forgive me!” He kowtowed so violently he almost crashed into the floor.
“A madwoman and now a madman,” Magistrate Bu said, his upper lip curling.
“M-my lord, you p-promised that my family will be well taken care of if I confess today,” the man stammered. “Does this still hold true?”
“What in heaven's name are you speaking of? Guards, take him away!”
None of the guards moved. The secretary continued to scribble down the proceedings, his brush flying over the page.
The man began to weep, the tears washing the dirt from his cheeks. “Please, my lord, have mercy!”
“Magistrate Bu, perhaps you will be more comfortable here on the floor,” Magistrate Li said after a minute of silence broken only by the sobbing man.
Magistrate Bu slammed his hands on his desk. “This is my tribunal.”
“According to imperial law, the nearest magistrate takes over the ruling if the current magistrate is accused of wrongdoing.”
“Who dares accuse me?” Magistrate Bu demanded.
Magistrate Li blinked. “I do. I accuse you of deceit and abuse of power.”
“You—”
“Do you disagree with imperial law? Shall we go to the capital city to face the emperor?”
Magistrate Bu snapped his mouth shut.
“I believe you are in my seat,” Magistrate Li said evenly.
With a venomous look, Magistrate Bu snapped his sleeves behind him and marched down from his desk. Lady Bu plucked the official’s hat off her husband’s head and handed it to her father.
Magistrate Bu bristled as Magistrate Li placed the hat on his head and took his seat at the head of the room. Zhi Lan felt the energy change, the pressure in her chest lightening ever so slightly. The sobbing man must have felt the same, as he managed to cease sobbing.
Magistrate Li addressed him. “Did you or did you not steal a prized painting from Magistrate Bu?”
The man kowtowed again. “I did not, your lordship. Magistrate Bu has promised my family wealth if I confessed to stealing from him today.”
“Indeed. And why is that?” Magistrate Li said.
“He was unable to find the real thief, so he needed someone to confess before three days were up. I’m only a poor laborer. I can do little for my family, but his lordship offered us riches in exchange for my sentencing,” the man said. Then, with a defiant glance at Magistrate Bu, he continued, “It is this humble man’s opinion that Magistrate Bu was afraid of losing face and gaining a demerit. He has failed to find thieves and robbers in the past and he’s afraid he can no longer keep his office if this goes on.”
Magistrate Bu fumed. “You traitorous fool! I’ll have your head!” He launched himself at the man and managed a solid kick to his side before a pair of guards restrained him, forcing him to his knees.
“Abuse of power is a capital offense,” Magistrate Li said. “Punishable by demotion and imprisonment. Sometimes death.”
Magistrate Bu’s eyes flashed. He looked like a crazed man. Zhi Lan inched away from him, but the movement only drew his attention. “This changes nothing!” Magistrate Bu spat, his face twisted into a venomous expression. “This girl and that criminal you claim as kin have as good as confessed to their crimes. They are thieves and liars! They deserve retribution!”
Zhi Lan flinched as a drop of his spittle landed on her cheek.
“Young miss,” Magistrate Li said, his gaze fixating on her. His brows raised slightly when he took in her face. Zhi Lan felt like melting into a puddle. There was no doubt he recognized her. “Who are you, and what do you have to say for yourself?”
Zhi Lan carefully wiped her cheek, then clasped her hands before her in respect before addressing Magistrate Li. “I’m Nong Zhi Lan, my lord. Apprentice to my master, scholar painter Dan Li Chen.”
Magistrate Li seemed to recognize Master Dan’s name too. His signature stamp had been on the painting of Shui Jin Mountain, which had been in his possession for a full morning.
Slowly, Zhi Lan told him of the stolen painting, Magistrate Bu’s threats, her determination to retrieve it, and how Shao Qing had helped her along the way. She kept the locations vague and left out the part about Shao Qing’s soul. The case was complicated enough without the supernatural. Zhi Lan knew she was as good as incriminating both of them, but she had a feeling Magistrate Li would be merciful, especially considering that he had been the buyer of the stolen painting, and Shao Qing was his grandson.
At the end of her story, Magistrate Li stroked his short beard. “It seems that you were only trying to right a wrong, to steal back what was stolen from you. Though, you have broken into a... family’s home. You took nothing else but your master’s painting, is that correct?”
Zhi Lan nodded slowly, feeling that the magistrate was urging her to agree. It seemed that he was willing to overlook the dragon painting Shao Qing had taken from his study.
“Your intent was to help your master. That dedication is admirable,” Magistrate Li said. “Though you still deserve punishment for breaking and entering.”
Shao Qing clasped his hands before him. “Your lordship, Zhi Lan cannot be blamed. The fault is mine. I was a bad influence.”
Zhi Lan resisted the urge to groan. His newfound gallantry was simultaneously touching and tiresome. Couldn’t he see that he was only making things worse?
“I’ll get to you later, Li Shao Qing,” Magistrate Li said, a sardonic glint in his eye. He addressed Zhi Lan again. “Magistrate Bu’s patronage will be terminated. You and your master will no longer receive housing or payment from him. Is that an acceptable punishment for you?”
Magistrate Bu sputtered.
Zhi Lan sagged in relief. “I accept this punishment, my lord,” she said, bowing low. Funny. Three days ago this sentencing would’ve been the death of her.
“Li Shao Qing. You have confessed to thievery,” Magistrate Li said.
Shao Qing lowered his head. “Yes, my lord.”
“You were raised without principles and have resorted to crime.”
Zhi Lan held her breath, wondering if Magistrate Li was going to sentence him to death even if Shao Qing were his grandson.
“The fault is on your father, Wen Jun,” Magistrate Li said. “Son, you have neglected your parental duty to teach your child the proper way of the world. Do you plead guilty?”
Wen Jun knelt beside Shao Qing. “I do, my lord.”
“You will repent by making up for lost time. Take him home and make him into a worthy man.”
Wen Jun bowed until his forehead touched the stone floor. “I accept.”
Magistrate Bu pounded the tiles. “Unacceptable! I have never heard of such lenient sentencings in my life!”
“You and I have read the same classics, Bu. A child’s wrongdoing is a reflection of his parents.”
“You are a partial old weasel, Li! I will write your impeachment letter and send it to the capital city. The Ministry of Justice will be hearing about this!”
“My partiality is to my family. Yours is to yourself,” Magistrate Li said mildly. “I’ll send your impeachment letter as well. We’ll see which one of us the ministry thinks is more dastardly.”
With that, Magistrate Li concluded the trial.
A crowd was gathering outside the yamen , craning their necks over the guards to see what Magistrate Bu had done to his thief. Zhi Lan could only imagine their surprise when they saw their magistrate dragged along by a pair of guards, kicking and sputtering, followed by a seemingly random collection of strangers.
“Lady Bu,” Zhi Lan said, trotting up to her as they made their way back to the manor. “Did you plan all this?”
Magistrate Li, Wen Jun, and Shao Qing trailed some paces behind. The man bound by ropes and the old woman had been allowed to go free.
Lady Bu gave Zhi Lan a mysterious smile. “When I first saw Shao Qing, I had my suspicions. It was only a matter of time before all was revealed.”
So that was why Lady Bu had insisted on finding out Shao Qing’s name and where he came from. But to imagine that she concocted her plan and gathered all the right people in less than a day!
“I owe you a debt, your ladyship,” Zhi Lan said. They entered the manor and passed the courtyard. It felt odd walking into Magistrate Bu’s parlor when the master of the house was detained.
Lady Bu had no such scruples, however, and ordered a maidservant to fetch tea. She took her place at the head of the parlor. “You owe me no debt, child. If it weren’t for you, my brother would not have found his son.”
Zhi Lan looked behind her to see the three men enter the parlor. Shao Qing leaned on his father’s arm, still looking sick. Magistrate Li observed them silently as Wen Jun said something too low to hear.
Shao Qing had reunited with his family. She could only imagine the shock he was still feeling, but she was glad he was safe—that they were both safe. She wanted to go and console him, but suddenly she felt like an outsider. After all, everyone else in the room was family. She was just some farm girl.
The maidservant came back with the tea.
Zhi Lan turned back to Lady Bu. “I suppose I’ll fetch my master and we’ll leave as soon as we can. I don’t wish to be a burden to you any longer than necessary.”
“You may stay the night. I’m in no rush.”
Zhi Lan thanked her for her graciousness. “If I may be so bold to ask, your ladyship, what will happen to Magistrate Bu? Surely this would affect the household and implicate you in some way.”
Lady Bu sipped her tea. “I’ll have divorce papers written up. This is the best basis for separation I ever had the pleasure to uncover.”
Zhi Lan stifled a laugh. Her gaze strayed to Shao Qing again. He was still with his father across the room, but he met her eyes, looking as if he wanted to speak.
“Zhi Lan! I came as soon as I heard!” Master Dan rushed into the parlor at an impressive speed for his age, his white robes flying behind him. “Child, you’ve never given me this much trouble before!”
“I’m sorry, Master Dan,” Zhi Lan said meekly.
“Never mind that. What happened? Are you alright?”
Zhi Lan quickly summarized the trial to the best of her ability, though her head was still spinning. “I’m fine,” she said finally.
“So this is the master painter who started all this trouble,” Magistrate Li said from behind them. “Dan Li Chen, I presume?”
Master Dan bowed low. He had forsaken propriety for her, having not introduced himself to their betters when he entered the room. He was generous with his praise now. “Thank you, Magistrate Li. If it weren’t for your fair and just ruling, my student here would be in terrible trouble. You are truly noble, of position and of character.”
Zhi Lan blushed and bowed as well. She was still embarrassed about being caught breaking and entering Magistrate Li’s house. And despite what Master Dan said, Magistrate Li hadn’t exactly been fair or just. He had bent the rules to suit them. Why, he himself was entangled in the thievery by being a patron of stolen art!
Shao Qing was right about the law. Justice never happened as it should.
Magistrate Li returned the bow, his lips slightly upturned when Zhi Lan stammered her thanks. “You had better stick to your ink and brush, young miss. I do not think you share the same talents as my grandson.”
Master Dan sighed when the magistrate went to speak to Lady Bu. “I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to face your parents after this, Zhi Lan. It’s like ever since we got here there has been nothing but trouble.”
“Well...we don’t have to stay any longer,” Zhi Lan said. “Lady Bu says we can leave tomorrow.”
“It’s for the best,” Master Dan said with a shake of his head. “What do you say we go north? I hear there are butterfly migrations through the forest. You can practice painting them.”
Zhi Lan smiled weakly. “I’d like that.”
Lady Bu ordered more refreshments to be brought to them as Master Dan and Zhi Lan planned their route northward, discussing the inns along the road and the money they had left to spend. Zhi Lan was growing more optimistic as Master Dan described the paintings he wanted to try his hand at and the new techniques he would show her once they came across worthy subject matter.
Eventually, Magistrate Li took his leave. When Lady Bu stood and announced her desire to rest, Zhi Lan realized the parlor was empty.
Shao Qing was gone. And she hadn’t even said goodbye.