1 – Zhi Lan
T he magistrate was skinnier than Zhi Lan expected.
Ma and Ba always said the rich had ten courses for every meal—it was a luxury only money could afford. Up until now, Zhi Lan had pictured everyone in the upper class to be plump and well-fed.
“Thank you all for coming to celebrate with me!” Magistrate Bu raised his wine cup with a scrawny hand to the guests scattered across his expansive courtyard.
In addition to his wiry frame, he had a thin mustache and a pasty complexion, exacerbated by his midnight blue robes. In short, he wasn’t handsome at all. What a shame for Lady Bu, who sat beside him in elaborate robes, exuding beauty and elegance.
Zhi Lan shifted in her seat as her stomach growled. She had been far too nervous to eat that morning, and the sheer amount of food in her proximity seemed to taunt her. Before her was a perfect pyramid of colorful fruit and steaming pork buns dyed pink to resemble peaches. Porcelain dishes of savory meat, pickled vegetables, and white, pillowy rice peppered each low table where the banquet guests sat in the courtyard, shaded by the lilac wisteria trees swaying gently in the evening breeze.
Zhi Lan had never seen so much food or so much beauty at once. And to think this was the place she was to live...
“I feel it a duty of mine to bolster new talent in Zhu City,” the magistrate said. Zhi Lan hadn’t registered when he’d begun to speak. “I have recently taken under my patronage the up and coming scholar painter, Dan Li Chen. He is here this evening to present us with his most recent masterpiece.”
The guests applauded, murmuring amongst themselves.
Master Dan sat serenely beside Zhi Lan, his snowy white scholar’s robes the same shade as his trimmed beard and neat top knot. He was as old as Zhi Lan’s grandfather, perhaps older, but he had recently made a name for himself as one of the greatest mountain and river painters across several counties. Zhi Lan had been under his tutelage for nearly a year and had grown quite fond of the old man. She couldn’t have been more proud of him—and herself. After all, his wins were her wins.
Ma always said that a young woman was never taken seriously. The more time Zhi Lan spent in the city, the more she realized that was true. Without Master Dan, her passion for painting was a mere feminine hobby, not a serious pursuit. She only had respectability as Master Dan’s student. For the time being, she cherished this. One day, when her master reached the heights of fame, she’d be able to pursue her own path and make a name for herself with his illustrious recommendation.
“Ready, Zhi Lan?” Master Dan asked in a low voice.
Zhi Lan clutched the heavy silk scroll in her hands and nodded. The evening was warm as it was late spring easing into early summer. Beads of sweat coated the back of her neck, though she couldn’t entirely blame it on the balmy weather.
Together, they stood and made their way to the center of the courtyard. Master Dan clasped his hands before him and bowed low to the magistrate. Zhi Lan followed suit, holding the scroll out before her with both hands. Her arms trembled. This was the start of something monumental—the first step on the path of being a self-sustaining painter like her master. She hoped her parents would be proud.
“It is my honor to unveil my newest painting for your guests, my lord,” Master Dan said.
Magistrate Bu waved a hand. “Yes, yes! Do not keep us in suspense. Bring it up.”
Zhi Lan stepped forward, keeping her head lowered, and let the magistrate’s young steward take the painting from her hands.
Magistrate Bu of Zhu City was known to be a great collector of art. Every few years, he would take a new artist under his wing and commission a piece for his private collection. Zhi Lan was thrilled Master Dan had been singled out this year. She hoped they’d be allowed to see the magistrate’s famous collection. If the art was anything like Master Dan’s work, his lordship had good taste.
“They say Zhu City has known no other painter so accomplished,” Lady Bu said, her voice soft and melodious. “I look forward to seeing your work.”
“You flatter this humble servant, your ladyship,” Master Dan said. “I cannot take all the credit—my student has been of great help to me.”
Zhi Lan bowed even lower, blushing. But the stone-paved ground did not keep her interest for long, and she couldn’t help but peek up at the dais. She was surprised to find Magistrate Bu staring at her.
Zhi Lan flicked her gaze to the ground again and shuffled backwards until she was safely behind Master Dan.
The steward unrolled the scroll, revealing the masterpiece she and Master Dan had painstakingly worked on for the past three months—and the sole reason why they were here now. This was the painting that caught Magistrate Bu’s eye when Master Dan had first showed it off at a local tea house.
He had painted it on site on Shui Jin Mountain, where the waterfalls had sparkled like quartz under the sun and the rocks had burst with flora and fauna. The scene depicted the great waterfall, framed by a foreground of bamboo and a background of misty mountains, washed with a greenish blue haze, evoking a sense of serene mystery.
Master Dan’s style was fine-lined and meticulous. Though each subject was carefully rendered, he occasionally let his brushstrokes bloom and bleed, bringing life and expression to an otherwise tight painting. Zhi Lan had prepared all the necessary pigments, and even helped Master Dan with the foliage in the foreground. She knew every line and mark that made this masterpiece. She couldn’t wait to apply that knowledge to her own work one day.
The courtyard exploded into a smattering of applause and exclamations.
“An excellent painting!”
“Magistrate Bu has impeccable taste.”
“His lordship certainly has an eye for talent!”
Master Dan turned to her, eyes glimmering, and whispered, “It appears they like it.”
Zhi Lan beamed.
The banquet went on, and the guests, including her and Master Dan, were encouraged to eat and drink their fill. She couldn’t believe this was going to be her new life. Traveling with Master Dan to paint stunning locales had been far more exciting than her days on the farm, but this! Sitting with officials and scholars, speaking with them and feasting with them, was beyond anything Zhi Lan had ever imagined.
She spent the evening in awed silence, content to just eat and observe.
When dusk came and the skies grew dim and hazy, Magistrate Bu approached their table. After exchanging pleasantries and toasting Master Dan with a cup of wine, he said, “Come, Li Chen. Let me give you a tour of the grounds. And afterward, I have treasures to show you.”
Master Dan and Zhi Lan were led across the main courtyard to the private courtyard behind the central hall, the murmurs of the banquet quieting the further they walked. The magistrate’s mansion was impeccably kept. The rock gardens were arranged artfully, the low shrubs well trimmed, and the verandas cleanly swept and polished. They stopped before the latticed double doors of a side room connected to the central wing.
Zhi Lan stood with her head lowered, her heart pounding and her cheeks flushed slightly from wine. She wondered what treasure Magistrate Bu spoke of. Were they going to see his legendary art collection?
She was so lost in her thoughts that she jumped when the magistrate spoke.
“Is this your student? What is her name?”
“Zhi Lan, my lord,” Master Dan said. “She has been with me for about a year now.”
“Indeed! Why does she cower so?” Magistrate Bu looked to her. “Do you speak, Miss Zhi Lan?”
“F-forgive me, my lord,” Zhi Lan stammered. She hadn’t expected to be addressed. Most people mistook her as a servant, and she was used to letting Master Dan do the talking. And she had to admit, speaking to a bureaucrat—especially a magistrate—made her break out in cold sweat. “This is all so extraordinary, I’m merely at a loss for words.”
Magistrate Bu chuckled. “A lovely voice to go with a lovely face.”
Zhi Lan smiled uncomfortably. She wished the magistrate could have praised her skill instead of her looks, as he did with Master Dan. There was merit to building a skill. There was no merit to how she looked—it wasn’t as if she had carved her face herself. And yet, Zhi Lan knew the polite thing would be to smile and accept the compliment demurely.
So she did.
“You mustn't be afraid,” Magistrate Bu said, leaning toward her. His voice lowered to a conspiratorial volume. “You may speak freely. This place is soon to become your home.” There was an odd glint in his eyes, and he seemed to stare at her with keen interest.
Zhi Lan ducked her head. “Thank you, my lord.”
“You were going to show us something, my lord?” Master Dan prompted.
“Ah, yes.” Magistrate Bu straightened and Zhi Lan breathed a little easier. “I have an extensive collection of treasures, as you may have heard. I hope that your paintings will grace these walls in the coming months.”
The magistrate threw open the double doors and stepped over the raised threshold.
Zhi Lan gaped at the room they entered. It was the size of a luxurious suite, filled with polished hexagonal shelves that displayed porcelain vases embellished with deep blue patterns, bronze statuettes, and exquisitely painted fans. Standing screens depicting dreamy mountain scenery were pushed against each wall. The scent of wood lacquer and paper lingered in the air, thick with artistic possibilities.
“Impressive!” Master Dan exclaimed. “How long have you been collecting?”
“Since I began studying for the imperial exams, twenty-five years ago. Art was like a balm to my soul back then. It still is now.” Magistrate Bu assessed the room with unveiled pride. Zhi Lan felt she would be strutting like a peacock too if she had such a collection. “Let me tell you of my most recent acquisition. Two days ago my men came across something peculiar while hunting—an abandoned chest in the river, quite aged. I knew at once it contained great treasure.”
Master Dan raised his white brows. “Indeed? What was inside?”
“Mud from the river and old peasants’ clothes.” The magistrate waved his hand in front of his nose as if the mere mention of those items stank. “I was almost about to throw it back in, but there was a box buried at the bottom. Inside was the most exquisite item.”
What could possibly be more exquisite than the art already in the room? Zhi Lan was dying of curiosity, but she didn’t say so. Master Dan must’ve sensed her eagerness, for he smiled and said, “Pray, do show us, my lord. You are keeping us in suspense.”
Magistrate Bu gestured to his steward, who scampered off into the shelves, then came back with a small handheld scroll with silken ties. He unfurled it carefully.
Zhi Lan gasped.
It was a painting of a dragon done in loose, expressive brushstrokes. Its scaled body wove in and out of a cluster of swirling clouds like a winding river. It had a proud mane, great sapphire horns, and golden claws. The creature exuded pride and strength, but there was a playfulness to it too in the curved flick of its tail. It was so fluid and life-like that Zhi Lan almost thought she saw it move.
“Exquisite, is it not?” the magistrate boasted.
“Oh, yes!” Zhi Lan exclaimed, enraptured. “But where are the eyes?”
Two blank white orbs sat on the dragon’s face. It was missing its irises. Zhi Lan thought it looked achingly incomplete without them. She noticed too that there was no inscription on the paper, and no red seal that indicated the artist’s name.
“Therein lies the mystery,” the magistrate said. “It is an unfinished work by an unknown master. It is a rare painting—one of a kind!”
Zhi Lan looked to Master Dan, who seemed to have been rendered speechless by the piece.
“A mystery indeed!” Master Dan said. “It’s magnificent.”
Magistrate Bu waved his steward away. Zhi Lan watched the servant disappear behind the shelves with the dragon painting, wishing she could look at the piece for a while longer.
“You will have access to this room as long as I am your patron,” the magistrate said, clasping his hands behind his back. “Do you think this collection of mine is a significant source of inspiration, Li Chen? Will you be able to make many pieces of such quality for me?”
Master Dan bowed. “Of course, my lord! I have never been more delighted by a room in my life. You have provided me countless masters to learn from. May I take a look around?”
“Han, show Master Dan the bamboo scrolls,” Magistrate Bu said, waving a hand at his steward, who scampered back to his side. “Miss Zhi Lan. You are welcome to explore as you please too.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Zhi Lan said. She made a move to follow Han and Master Dan, but Magistrate Bu stood in the way, a wet smile on his lips. She smiled back hesitantly, then turned on her heel to the other side of the room. Maybe she’d be able to find the dragon painting and study it a little more. Han had put it away in the far corner, so that was where she would go.
Zhi Lan wandered past scrolls with calligraphy done in massive brushstrokes, delicate paintings of bamboo forests, and intricately enameled bronze containers. Scrolls overlapped on the walls and a vase concealed a delightful jade sculpture of a lion. Master Dan was right. This was a room of countless masters.
It was almost overwhelming. Zhi Lan wished each piece was given room to breathe and be admired.
She ducked into a narrow space where a large silk screen was half hidden behind a circular shelf. The silk was stretched over a polished wooden frame, embellished with gold gilding. At the top right corner was an inscription:
Lovers entwine beneath the willow boughs;
Like spring, passion blooms.
Zhi Lan sucked in a breath at the painting beneath. It depicted a man and a woman in front of a small pavilion beneath a willow tree. The lady was scantily dressed, her robe parted to expose the half moons of her breasts. The man embracing her was wearing nothing at all.
And between his legs was a rather...rude protrusion.
“This painting is called Scenery of the Spring Palace .”
Zhi Lan jumped. Magistrate Bu emerged from behind her, crowding the corner even further.
“Oh,” Zhi Lan said stupidly. Utterly mortified, she made an attempt to escape, but realized that the magistrate was yet again standing in the way of the only exit.
Zhi Lan wasn’t a prude, by any means. She had grown up in a small village, where everyone bathed in the same river, sometimes at the same time. Naked bodies were just that—naked bodies. It was the context and intent in which they were viewed that changed things. And lovers entwining beneath willow boughs certainly changed things.
“It is one of my favorites,” Magistrate Bu said, smiling his wet smile again. From this proximity, his teeth were quite long and stained yellow. “It is a shame I can’t display it. My wife has rather modest sensibilities.”
Zhi Lan returned his smile nervously. “May I ask who the artist is? The line work is exquisite.”
The magistrate shrugged. “A court painter. He was known for his depictions of the emperor’s harem. I’m a collector of his work, as you can see.”
Zhi Lan turned around, only to be faced with another couple in flagrante delicto. The composition was all elegance and decadence. In any other context, she would have loved to study it, but with the magistrate’s overpowering presence and long-toothed smile, she wished she were anywhere else but here. “Of course, my lord,” she said, feeling her cheeks burn.
“There you go cowering again, Miss Zhi Lan,” Magistrate Bu said. “You tremble like a flower.”
Zhi Lan felt a prick of annoyance at the comparison. She was not a flower...never mind that her name was rather floral. If the magistrate had been a villager, she would’ve told him exactly what she thought of his advances. But Magistrate Bu was their patron, not to mention the most powerful man in the city. She couldn’t possibly give him one of her put-downs. Besides, what if she had misread his intentions? He was a patron of art. A scholar-gentleman. A respected civil servant.
Sweat broke across her brow as the magistrate stepped closer. Her mind spun, wondering what she could do or say to make him stop.
Please, please, please let there be a distraction.
An ungodly crash sounded from the courtyard. Then, screams erupted.
Magistrate Bu jerked toward the noise. “What in the name of heaven is going on out there?”
Han and Master Dan emerged from the other side of the room. Zhi Lan seized this opportunity to escape, joining Master Dan at the entrance.
They all rushed to the courtyard to see what the matter was. The lanterns had been lit in the wake of the waning daylight, illuminating the space in a yellow glow. Zhi Lan felt dazed and shaky with relief. A distraction had come as soon as she wished it! It was almost like divine intervention.
All thoughts of deities vanished when a dark figure hurtled toward them, half of their face covered with a soot black scarf. Under their arm was a scroll. Zhi Lan recognized the blue and gold silk brocade—she had held it in her hands just moments ago.
“Master Dan, your painting!” she cried.
At this, the thief locked eyes with her. It was a man. From beneath two dark brows, a pair of parchment beige irises glowered at her—pale and empty as if the color had been leached out of them.
Zhi Lan shrank back. A demon!
“Thief!” Magistrate Bu bellowed. “Guards, grab him!”
No one came immediately. After a few delayed seconds, the magistrate’s guards stumbled in, having clearly imbibed on spirits. In their bulky armor and spears, they were no match for the man in black, who sprinted across the courtyard like a lynx through a forest.
Then, in a mighty leap too swift to be human, the thief disappeared over the wall.