Chapter Two #2
‘Quickly, come with me. Fast as you can.’ Daiyu reached for him and cupped his scarred elbow.
She knew he shirked from touch and usually kept her distance, which meant now she was as fear-struck as him.
‘Her Grace has sent her guards to locate you. They musn’t see you like this.
For one, I don’t have near enough coin on me to bribe them to forget the state of your dress.
’ She pressed at his arm, urging him to move.
‘And secondly they are a bunch of nucai without an inch of sense among them, likely to lead you through every muddy puddle when they take you back to your rooms, ruining your gown far worse than you have. Come away now, quickly.’
Xian turned to the pond. ‘Goodbye, Mercy. I’ll be back, I promise.’ Daiyu had never bothered him about his fondness for the fish, though he was sure she found it strange.
The carp pushed her body higher out of the water, resting on the stone, and regarded him with an ink-black eye as he hurried away.
Daiyu took him in the opposite direction whence he’d come.
‘Where are we going, Daiyu?’
‘I know a route through the kitchens that will take you back to your chambers unseen.’
Xian nodded, though he felt only marginally more at ease.
The manor servants knew he understood their hard lives in a way no other member of the Governor’s family could manage.
But they were exhausted by the long hours, and not well rewarded.
He could not blame them if they tattled on him, revealing his hiding place in return for an extra ration of rice or an afternoon of free time.
‘Perhaps we could conceal ourselves here a moment.’ He gestured to where the weeping willows were thickest at the west side of the garden. ‘They might not think to search here—’
‘Because it’s the last place you should be in your exquisite ceremonial gown?
’ Daiyu did not falter in her quick strides, her dark qun much more suited to hiding stains than the lighter tones of his own skirt.
‘A reasonable idea, except that there is only one place you ever are, if you are not inside the manor. Her Grace ordered the guards to the fishpond the moment she knew you missing.’
Daiyu released his arm, and stepped ahead, pushing aside the heavy draping branches of the largest willow.
She led him through the dangling fronds, their sway like dripping gold, to where the outer wall of the gardens stood high and mighty.
Except one section was not so formidable at all.
Xian stared at the makeshift entrance. A hole in the brickwork that was jagged and obviously unplanned.
‘How long has that been there?’
‘Since I was a child, and those willows weren’t much more than saplings. Come on.’
They stepped through into a hutong, the narrow alleyway formed between siheyuan; the traditional courtyard residence style of architecture common in Kunming, and indeed, all over the Middle Kingdom.
Daiyu frowned, glancing left and right. They had stepped from the grandeur of the manor grounds, and into what was clearly the realm of the household servants.
The air was ripe with the scent of cooking and livestock.
Distant voices lifted with the lighter, more earnest sound of those who did not have to choose every word carefully.
But barely had he gotten his bearings, and the regimented footfall of the guards came from behind the wall.
Daiyu cursed beneath her breath. ‘This way, come on.’
She grabbed his arm again, but Xian was not prepared this time. Startled at her closeness, he jerked away, stepping on a slippery patch in the shade at the foot of the wall.
‘No!’ he cried.
Daiyu lunged, grabbing at him to stop his fall. She caught the sheer, delicate fabric of his overcoat, and Xian heard the tear of material as though it were a crack of thunder.
‘Oh Xian, I’m so sorry. What have I done?’
She had torn a seam at the cuff of the wide sleeve, one that would not be missed by those who watched him perform. ‘I shouldn’t have gone out…this is my fault…’ Xian’s heart thumped and his throat ran dry. ‘I shouldn’t have left my room…’
‘I did this, I will fix it.’ Daiyu was already guiding him down the hutong, her voice low. ‘Take a breath, Xian, you are even more pale than usual. I will fix this, I promise you. This way.’
He moved with her, but he couldn’t unlock his eyes from the tear. What a fool he’d been to venture out. Xian tried to breathe as he’d been told, but his lungs seemed small as chestnuts.
‘She will beat me for this.’
He didn’t realise he’d said it aloud until Daiyu jerked to a stop. Her look was fierce.
‘There will be no reason for her to lay a hand on you, your highness. I swear to you.’
She looked away, her mouth set in a grim line.
‘Daiyu, is that you?’
Further down the hutong, someone leaned through an entranceway; a woman, stout of frame with plump arms folded. She squinted, her fleshy face wrinkling. ‘Who you got there with you?’ Her entire body jerked with recognition. ‘By the Maidens, that’s not the prince is it?’
Daiyu groaned, but urged Xian forward.
‘Heng,’ she hissed, ‘close your mouth, you could catch an entire dragonfly with it open that wide.’ The scolded woman snapped her mouth closed and stared at Xian as they approached; evidently too shocked to bother with the requisite bow.
‘Is Fei-Lin around? We need a seamstress.’ Daiyu threw Xian a quick apologetic glance.
Heng wiped at her chin, leaving a smudge of something honey-coloured across their skin. Her gaze darted between Xian and Daiyu. ‘Fei-Lin finished up in the manor a while ago. She will be in the tavern by now.’
Noises came from behind them; muffled voices, feet upon dirt. Xian’s throat clenched. Daiyu cursed and practically shoved him towards the other woman. ‘Go, go.’
He glimpsed movement at the hole in the wall where they had entered, but then he was being propelled into the courtyard of another siheyuan, and almost into the arms of the startled Heng.
‘This is madness, Daiyu, let me go to them.’ He sought to turn back, but his friend stood firm.
‘Don’t be a fool, Xian,’ Daiyu said, prompting Heng to gasp at such forwardness. ‘They didn’t see us, they were looking the other way. I can set this right.’
‘But if she finds me here…’ Xian lowered his voice. ‘Everyone who lives within a stone’s throw will be punished, no matter whether they were involved in hiding me or not. You know that.’
Daiyu nodded tersely. The marchioness’s quickness to anger was well known to any who worked in the manor. ‘Which is why you cannot be marched back to her looking as you do.’
‘Your highness, please come inside,’ Heng urged. ‘There’s someone in my kitchen who might help us. A shoemaker, but he’s more than able with a needle and thread, I’m sure he’ll know how to help you. And if he doesn’t then that’s the last bowl of my zhajianmian he’ll ever eat.’
‘Some of you search the alley.’ The guard’s cry rang out, causing Daiyu to unleash a dozen curses at once.
‘Move, now.’
They broke into a run. Xian’s muddied slippers felt like stones upon his feet, but the journey to Heng’s abode was short.
‘In here, your—’ She silenced herself, gesturing vigorously towards a simple wood and stone dwelling where smoke seeped from a brick chimney built at the side of the house.
She opened the wooden door and stepped inside. Daiyu stayed behind Xian.
‘Quickly, inside. If they come through now you are in full view.’
Xian rushed into the room, a compact, heated space, the air pungent with spices and loud with the bubbling of pots, and ran straight into a man who was crossing ahead of him; a bowl, full and steaming, carried with great care.
Both he and Xian cried out, the man’s language far more foul. And just as Xian thought for certain he was to be doused with hot food, the man performed a masterful twist. But one too forceful to keep all of his meal in his bowl.
Two portions of pork belly, coated in soybean sauce, and slivers of green cucumber fell with a splat onto the floorboards.
‘You bèndàn!’ The man shouted, his queue swinging behind him as he turned on Xian, broad face alive with unhappiness. ‘What fool comes running into a kitchen like that?’
He flicked his hand, trying to rid it of an errant piece of noodle. The tiny morsel flew at Xian, landing on one of the strings hanging over his face.