Chapter Twenty-One #2
‘Move it, you’re needed here to see to the magistrate’s request at once.’ The captain’s authoritative tone left Lim cold, but his disinterest was encouraging. Either the captain had not seen him, or could not care less that he had.
‘You, Jang Ming!’ The shout from his own guard set Lim’s ears ringing.
‘Yes, sergeant?’
‘Take this man, see him off the grounds.’ Lim searched out his next captor.
‘Tell the guardsmen at the gate to note his face, and unless Master Ren himself returns with him I don’t want to see this man here again.
Token or no token. If I find him in here, you’ll all have bruises from me that will not heal. Go.’
A young man in the guards’ sky blue uniform stood in front of a cart brimming with flowers. He’d been in conversation with an older woman, a handsome lady with skin browned by the touch of the sun, and floral ornaments adorning her simple hairstyle; a single bun at the nape.
‘Yes sir, at once.’ He bowed to his senior officer and turned back to the woman, giving her a brief bow.
Her smile was grim and gentle, and faded altogether when she looked to Lim and the sergeant, but whatever misgivings she held she kept to herself.
Lim was shoved toward the young guard with such a force he’d have ended up flat on his face if the shocked man had not extended his arms to catch him.
‘Careful now,’ he mumbled. ‘Are you drunk? Is that why you are being thrown out?’
‘No.’ Lim righted himself quickly, praying the guard had felt no hint of the slipper when they’d collided. ‘I am certainly not drunk, though I wish I was.’
The sergeant had already turned his back, and made his way through the crowd with passersby stepping aside to allow him through; giving Lim glimpses of a group of men standing in front of a vibrantly painted building; one whose finery suggested it was the residence of the magistrate who the captain spoke of.
Their robes and nuanmao marked all of them as men of rank, with at least one scholar-official amongst them, his first rank badge an exquisite silver crane; its long neck bent so that its beak touched at its chest.
Lim kept his head ducked as he studied them, searching for the bulk of the captain, breathing a little sigh of relief when he could not spot him.
‘Move along, now, and make no delay of it.’ The guard’s voice held none of the gravitas of the sergeant’s.
Firm, but not unkind. And when Lim did not move immediately, the man made no move to push him on.
Instead, he sighed, brushing his finger over the shadow of a moustache above his lip.
‘Got yourself into a bit of bother, then?’
Lim swallowed, willing his nerves to settle so he could clear his head. ‘It would seem so, but I have no ill-intent.’
The young man, Jang Ming, had brown eyes the calming shade of forest soil.
‘No, I’m sure you don’t.’ He glanced towards the sergeant, who had reached the gathering of men.
Two of them stepped back to accommodate the new arrival and revealed the low cart they stood around.
It held a cargo of stacked crates, surrounded on either side by thick rolls of carpet.
A man with a golden peasant embroidered on his chest gestured down at someone who crouched on the far side of the cart.
Captain Duan rose to his feet, dusting off his oversized hands, speaking to the official with a frown on his stone-like face. Lim’s stomach churned unkindly.
‘Were you hoping to get a better view of the New Year’s celebrations?’ The guard asked, drawing Lim back to his current predicament.
‘I was.’ He could not have cared less about the new year, but he’d grab any excuse to delay being thrown out.
‘But I was truly sent here with a purpose. I was to deliver some of Master Ren’s lotus seeds to Chef Xinling in the kitchens.
’ He wrung his hands, putting on his grandest show of innocence, offering names to give himself greater credence.
‘I shouldn’t have veered off the path as I did, I admit, but its all been a terrible misunderstanding. Now I fear my master shall rage at me.’
‘Your master?’ Jung Ming said absently, more intent on watching the woman, who had returned to her work.
She sorted through piles of blooms; an array of stunning colour.
Among them, ixora, camellia, cherry blossoms, chrysanthemums, and magnolias.
Daphnes were there too, their emerald green leaves waxy with health; as they had been in the flower box outside Xian’s room.
Again, Lim puzzled over the out-of-season display.
In better times, his curiosity would prompt him to ask if he could see the heated place where they were grown.
But these were not better times.
‘Yes, Master Ren,’ Lim said impatiently. This boy was not even listening to him, let alone considering his story. ‘He lives by the river…and farms the most delicious red algae.’
The woman’s attention shifted to Lim, and her smile was as pretty as her blooms. ‘A wondrous farmer indeed.’
The guard’s face softened at the sound of her voice. ‘Yes, we are very fond of his oysters, aren’t we, Mai?’ He looked to Lim. ‘He always provides her with some of his finest oysters when she takes him her old blooms. He likes to feed them to his fish, though I can’t imagine why.’
‘They are no ordinary blooms, my love. I’ve always told you so.’
He beamed at the woman, making it obvious to all who saw that these two were lovers.
What must it be like to be looked upon that way?
Or to have someone to look at with such a gaze.
Lim cleared his throat, seeking to clear his mind of Xian’s image.
Fool. From what he had gauged, the prince wasn’t inclined towards such obvious affections; and an older shoemaker with a work-worn body was hardly likely to change that.
‘You have indeed, and I’ve never doubted it,’ Jung Ming said. ‘It just seems an odd meal for fish.’
‘Perhaps, but the results cannot be denied.’ Mai stepped closer, a sprig of white jasmine twisting lightly between her fingertips. ‘Do you remember that carp he gave us for our anniversary?’
The guard made an indistinct sound and touched his belly. ‘I’ll not forget it, if I live to one hundred. You could taste the hibiscus in their flesh, I swear.’
‘I’ve never seen a man so overcome by a meal, you were drunk on happiness that evening.’
Mai laughed, but Lim’s blood chilled at hearing talk of carp. A fresh surge of urgency pulsed through him, and the pouch lay heavy against his thigh.
‘Master Song?’ Mai watched him. Had her gaze just drifted to the slipper’s hiding place? ‘Is everything all right?’
He nodded too emphatically, perhaps. ‘Yes, yes. I just…’
She cocked her head, stilling the jasmine. ‘You are troubled.’
He doubted a mind reader was needed to know such a thing, but her tone had him wary. ‘Well I am being cast out when I’ve done nothing wrong. I fear what Master Ren shall think of my service.’
Mai rolled the flowers once more between her fingers, a few tiny white petals loosening. ‘Master Ren will not strike you, nor punish you, he understands the men who run this residence.’
Lim had no fear of Ren, of course. What he feared above all, even a run-in with the captain, was being thrown out of Feng’s residence.
‘Come now, they’ll notice us in a moment and it will be me who is getting shouted at.’ Jang Ming, recovered from his blissful memories of the carp, reached to take Lim’s arm.
Pulling away, Lim shook his head.
‘Please, I beg you. Don’t turn me out. I promise you I shall see myself out…once I’ve…’ His hand went to the slipper, his mind churning with indecision.
The guard shuffled his feet, glancing over to where the gathering of powerful men and their laden cart were partly hidden by the bustle of the small courtyard. ‘Master Song, you heard the sergeant’s orders. I have a duty to see you sent off.’
‘I cannot leave.’ Lim’s words rushed from him; and the weight of the slipper lessened. ‘I must reach Prince Xian, I need only a moment with him.’ Another lie; he wanted far more than a moment. ‘But it is vital that I see him.’
Jang Ming frowned, annoyance teasing his boyish features. ‘The prince from Kunming? That is impossible. Come on now.’ He took hold of Lim’s upper arm, firm in his grip.
‘The Veiled Prince is a lonely soul,’ Mai said so quietly Lim barely caught it. ‘Are you a friend to him, Master Song? He could use one here.’
‘Of course I am a friend,’ Lim said strongly. ‘What do you know of his treatment? Have you seen him?’
He barely recognised the uncommon desperation in his voice.
There was a distance in the woman’s light brown eyes as she nodded.
‘Yes, when I’ve tended to the flowers, helping them grow.
A sad one, that prince. Unwanted by the emperor, and maltreated by those entrusted with his care.
But you…’ She stepped around her lover, drawing from him a soft, resigned moan; as though this were not the first time she’d suddenly gone all wide-eyed and fixated.
‘You are a friend, Master Song.’ Mai lifted her hand, and brushed the jasmine beneath Lim’s chin.
He flinched as the powerful scent of the flowers filled his nostrils, and his need to pull away vanished; like a candle snuffed out.
The petals were soft as butterfly wings and, most curiously, seemed to flutter against him as those wings would; despite not a breath of air moving through the courtyard.
He watched as her gaze slid down his body and fixed upon the leather pouch where the slipper rested.
Her brows twitched, and a faint brush of surprise swept her features.
‘Oh, I see.’
Lim shifted. ‘See what?’
A rooster crowed beyond the walls, and the siheyuan rumbled and hummed with life, but Lim felt as though he stood with her alone.
‘One half of two to be joined,’ she said, her eyelids heavy, her voice low.
Lim edged away. ‘What did you say?’
Mai’s hand dropped, the jasmine dangling in her fingertips. Her face paler than before, and shoulders slumped.
‘Mai? Sit down, please.’ Jang Ming fussed around her, but the woman shook her head.
‘He must stay, Ming. Do not cast him out.’
‘Take a deep breath, sweet woman. You always forget to breathe when these turns come upon you.’
But Mai resisted his attentions, her focus still fixed upon Lim. Her lips were faintly pink, drained of their lusher colour. ‘He has been locked away, but now you have the key, shoemaker.’
Master Ren with his odd words, the Englishman with his cryptic speech, now this? Lim grunted in frustration.
‘What do you mean by that?’ he demanded.
She shook her head, a frown casting lines around her eyes. ‘I only know what the magick will tell me.’
‘But it’s not telling you anything of worth’ Lim said, frustration making him blunt. ‘Can you take me to Xian?’
Mai raised her head, her eyes wide. ‘Go. He mustn’t find you.’
Lim’s temper boiled over. ‘Go where? Who mustn’t find me?’
Go, she mouthed.
Her eyes rolled back in her head, and her body jerked violently. The suddenness tore her from her lover’s hold, and Mai toppled backwards, landing against the shafts of her cart. Her weight shoved them off the stacked bricks they’d balanced on.
‘Mai,’ Jang Ming cried.
The drop of the shafts sent the contents of the cart lifting from the wood.
All at once, the world was filled with colour; the flowers lifted into the air in a storm of pretty shades.
The flowers lifted as though borne by a whirlwind; cherry blossoms like raindrops, jasmine swirling like a snowstorm.
‘Find the herbalist, now!’
Jang Ming’s shout was loud enough, but Lim could barely make him out amongst the frantic flutter of petals—a rainstorm of rainbows.
‘What is going on here?’ The all too familiar bellow shook Lim from his frozen state. ‘Get a hold of yourselves, you damned useless pigs.’
The voice dragged itself down Lim’s senses; unforgettable with its raspy, threatening edge.
‘Mai has had another turn, Captain Duan,’ a woman cried.
Lim blinked away plum blossom petals that caught at his eyelashes. Through the deluge of petals, a shadow approached; one whose bulk belonged to the very last person Lim wished to collide with.
He mustn’t find you.
Now he understood.
‘I said out of my damned way,’ the captain bellowed.
Lim batted at the jasmine petals that swarmed over him like manic moths around a flame. Go.
He bolted, putting the captain at his back, rushing through the whirling, peculiar madness of the unsettled flowers.
‘Captain, that man! It was he who struck at Mai!’
A chorus of voices, all spouting lunacy that made Lim’s skin heat with rage.
‘Seize him!’ The captain’s order punctured the air. ‘Bring him to me.’