Chapter Eighteen
Two days later, the rising sun woke Leander despite the dimness of their small room.
Even with the bed tucked into an alcove and the wooden shutters closed tight, Leander always felt when daylight first fell on the leaves outside.
There was far less foliage here than he was used to, but the trees in the courtyard welcomed the sun’s rays, as did the potted plants lining the courtyard and the water lilies floating in the koi pond.
They all whispered to Leander, telling him it was time for life to resume. Of course, the plants hadn’t been awake until the wee hours of the morning having an elaborate family celebration.
The plants were lucky.
Leander feared he’d left a rather poor impression on the hundreds and hundreds of people who had appeared to celebrate his adoption and the presentation of his son.
When Mother Huiling had mentioned a family feast, Leander had envisioned an awkward dinner complete with their eldest son, whose glares were cold enough to freeze Leander’s soul, and several cousins and aunties and uncles.
Instead, he’d gotten an elaborate celebration with important guests crowding the interior courtyards and an ever-rotating cast of townspeople sitting at outdoor tables set up in the street.
The whole damn city seemed to have made an appearance, which revealed how deeply Leander was now enmeshed with power in this city. That felt dangerous.
Father Xiaobo had escorted him to all the tables, introducing him to everyone.
Each table insisted Leander should take a celebratory toast with them.
If Leander had not learned to remove the intoxicating properties from alcohol using magic, he would’ve been dead from alcohol poisoning halfway through the night.
And guests had gifted Shanlin so many scrolls and books and games and statues and small pieces of jade and lucky coins and golden or silver taels that it didn’t all fit in his room. Mother Huiling had told him they would choose a display case and arrange the most valuable pieces in a communal area.
Shanlin had never lived in an orphanage, so he accepted that with polite grace.
At his age, Leander would have thrown a fit if even one object he valued was outside his line of sight for a minute.
Of course, that was hard to do when Shanlin now owned a shop’s worth of valuables.
A small, uncharitable part of Leander’s soul was jealous.
Xi shifted in his sleep, his body turning so that he pressed against Leander’s back.
Leander froze. Two nights of sharing a bed were not enough for him to get comfortable with the arrangement. Leander knew it would be awkward if they were both awake, so he scooted toward the foot of the bed and escaped the silk and satin covers.
Leander felt Mother Huiling’s presence, a bright spot brushing against the leaves of one of the two trees in the inner courtyard. Leander pulled on his loose pants and tied the string waist before fitting a utilitarian robe over them.
Ironically, when Leander had first received a new wardrobe, he had feared such support would strain Heng’s finances, but Heng could have bought a hundred wardrobes without noticing. His parents’ wealth exceeded anything Leander had expected.
After slipping his feet into embroidered slippers, Leander walked into the inner courtyard. Mother Huiling was there watering the tree and humming softly. She smiled when she saw him. “Peaceful mornings to you, qidi of my second son. I’m impressed that you are awake so early.”
“Good morning, mother of my qixiong. I usually wake with the sun,” he said. “It’s part of my plant magic.”
“Given how much you drank last night, that is most unfortunate.” Mother Huiling chuckled with a touch of malice.
She had supervised servants who carried Father Xiaobo to his bed, so she probably thought Leander had earned a headache.
“Come, join me for tea.” She turned and walked into the main house, and Leander followed.
“I thank you again for such a warm welcome last night,” Leander said with a bow before he took his seat in the chair opposite her.
She flicked her hand, and a tea service floated across the room.
This time, she did not ask Leander to serve.
She set it on a low table between them and poured two cups before passing one to him.
“You are most welcome in the family. Heng has chosen well to take you for his qidi,” Mother Huiling said.
“I am lucky to have the esteem of someone as talented and generous as Heng. Have we received any word about when he will return?”
“Not yet. In fact, he may be gone longer than anticipated. The government authorities have shown some interest in these outsiders he is following.”
“‘Government authorities’?” Leander’s stomach soured, and his magic reached for weapons before he made a conscious choice.
In the outside village, he would have found many.
There were trees and vines that offered poisons in abundance.
But the lack of plants in Ring City added another layer to the claustrophobia already choking him.
“You are quite safe,” Mother Huiling reassured him. “The authorities only know that the qidi of a member of the Nie family was poisoned. They are far more concerned about the death of Pill Master Xiangren.”
Leander blinked, his tired brain struggling to catch up. “Excuse me. Perhaps my Chinese has failed me, but I thought you said that Pill Master Xiangre was dead.”
“Indeed, he is. He was poisoned with heartbreak grass, but as he lived so much of his life in solitude, no one found him in time to render aid. He passed away last night, and Elder Daiyu informed Father and me an hour after the feast ended.”
Leander opened his mouth, but could not find words for several seconds while Mother Huiling sipped her tea as though all were well. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Leander finally asked.
“It is very possible that the poisoning of your qidi had nothing to do with the political machinations of your home country. Pill Master Xiangren had many enemies, and the poison was on one of his baskets.”
“They believe he was the target and Xi was an accident?” Leander asked. He doubted it.
“It seems reasonable given that it was his basket that was poisoned,” Mother Huiling said. “But you need not worry. Heng and his friend have agreed to help officials by continuing to watch the outsiders.”
Huang Min, the friend who had gone with Heng to play the role of girlfriend as they watched the outsiders. Leander was certain he would be jealous of that name under other circumstances, but right now he was too worried for his irrational insecurities to rise to the surface.
Xi wandered into the room, rubbing his eyes and looking like a zombie. He collapsed into the chair next to Leander. “I had no idea human beings could physically drink that much.” Xi rubbed his face.
Mother Huiling laughed brightly, her voice sounding like a song. “To drink less would be to dishonor the spirit of the celebration,” she said.
“Everyone was definitely honoring the celebration. They honored it until they were too honorable to walk straight,” Xi said.
Leander hissed a warning. And here he thought that he’d have to worry about the literal child offending their hosts, but Shanlin would never say anything so rude.
“Heng is held in high esteem, as are you, Craftsman Lian. Many a wife was jealous when I said that you wove ling baskets.”
“Are they that valuable?” Xi asked even though he knew the answer. Leander suspected he was fishing for more information, which seemed inappropriate over morning tea, although the effort impressed Leander. Given his complexion, one offer of congee or flatbread might make him vomit.
“Oh yes,” Mother Huiling said. “Ling is spiritual energy. Most grown food has ling, and food from this dragon space has more. But once you harvest that food or butcher the animal, the ling will seep out like water from an uncured clay pot. Craftsman Lian weaves not only reeds but qi itself. It can maintain the ling in food for much longer, and then when we eat that food, our qi replenishes much more quickly. That can help a person whose reservoirs are low from performing great magics or it could assist someone in improving their cultivation so that they may prepare themselves for the next step.” Mother Huiling’s smile grew wider as she spoke.
“Many envy me for having Craftsman Lian as my son.”
Leander was shocked by the last sentence. He struggled to find an appropriate response. “Mother Huiling, if you can find us a guide today, I would be happy to weave for you the most elaborate basket you have ever seen.”
Mother Huiling clapped her hands together.
“You are a delight, but if you need to rest, you should.” She leaned forward and with a conspiratorial tone said, “I suspect most men of the city will not stir from their beds until noon, at least not the ones who can afford to be absent from their positions.”
Most of the city. Most of the city had turned up to celebrate an adoption ceremony and the presentation of a son.
That implied an immense amount of power, money, esteem, or all three.
And truly, they had celebrated until they were too drunk to do much more than stumble about and play ridiculous games, like getting Leander to step over a saddle.
Sometimes, magical China’s culture was quite baffling.
“I appreciate your concern for us, but I am quite well. If Xi requires more time to sleep, he can return to the bed.” Leander smiled at Xi, who glared back.
Leander wondered if he had heard about the pill master’s murder.
It did not seem surprising that someone would want to kill such a disagreeable man, but his death meant that the village had lost someone of immeasurable skill.
“No, no. I’ll go,” Xi said. A third cup of tea floated toward Xi, but he waved his hand. “No, thank you. I don’t think my stomach would handle anything right now.”
“This is an ancient remedy for sour stomach caused by overindulging,” Mother Huiling said.
Xi looked at Leander who nodded. He trusted she would not offer him anything that was not safe, and most of the natural remedies were mild at best and in some cases useless.
Xi reached for the cup, and Mother Huiling said, “It is best to drink it quickly.”
Xi took a deep breath and then threw back the tea like it was a shot of whiskey. He then started choking. Mother Huling cackled. “That is why many people prefer sleep over medicine in the curing of a hangover.”
Xi wheezed, “That was vile.”
“That was a proper punishment for overindulging. If you wish to go with your qixiong as he searches for reeds, you need to have your head about you. The forest is ancient and full of powerful creatures; it is not a place for unwary men who are nursing hangovers.”
Xi nodded sheepishly. “Thank you for the warning and the tea,” he said, but his mouth was still twisted in disgust.
They had the rest of their tea in companionable silence. A servant appeared to invite them to the table where congee was served, and even Xi managed breakfast without being ill. Leander avoided looking at the servants; he didn’t even know how to talk to a servant.
“How is your magic?” Mother Huiling asked Xi.
“Sluggish,” Xi admitted with a grimace.
“Such injuries to the flow of qi usually result in death. Craftsman Liam is impressive.”
“He is,” Xi said with a meaningful expression.
Ever since their first night in their shared bedroom, everything Xi said seemed to have another meaning.
It made Leander want to run, but he had nowhere to go and he could not offend the Nie family.
Well, Mother and Father Nie anyway. Last night, Nie Zhiyuan had spent most of the night glaring, so he was already offended.
“We should leave. I don’t know how long it will take to find reeds of the proper size,” Leander said.
“Mother Huiling, can you look after Shanlin when he wakes?” If he were lucky, they would be back before that.
Shanlin had stayed up far too late and had eventually fallen asleep on the table, his head next to Father Xiaobo’s cup, which all the men had found entertaining while the women clucked about how he should have gone to bed long ago. Leander had carried him to his room.
“We will arrange his gifts and write to all those who honored him. He will be busy most of the day, and writing in Chinese will help the language pills settle his qi in new pathways.” She stared at Xi, her expression making it clear she expected him to write in Chinese as well.
“That is good advice,” Xi said with grace, but his expression was unhappy.
“I often provide good advice, not that people listen. And I advise you, qidi of my second son, that you take a guide with you into the forest. Huang Yuan’s family has been allied with ours for many generations. He will show you where to find the best path.”
“I listen and I appreciate your advice, Mother Huiling,” Leander said. “If you could suggest a guide, I would be eternally grateful.”
“I will call the youngest son of the Huang family.”
Leander bowed his head.
“Fuck, I’m never going to get the taste of that terrible tea out of my mouth. Even this congee tastes like it,” Xi complained quietly.
Mother Huiling’s mouth curled at the corners, and Leander’s face warmed in embarrassment. “You are still speaking Chinese,” Leander warned.
Xi studied him and then Mother Huiling, and then Leander again before he blushed. “Sorry. Still not used to the language pill,” he said in a pathetic attempt at an apology. Leander sighed, and Mother Huiling laughed.