4 – Shao Qing
T he shoe smacked the side of Shao Qing’s head. He didn’t move, though the blow rather smarted.
“You...you!” the girl sputtered. “I’ve never heard such drivel in my life!”
He had expected to run into a maidservant, but somehow it ended up being her—the apprentice of that old painter.
She was a strangely hyper one, this Nong Zhi Lan, gasping and sputtering and kicking as if she had the energy of a thousand wild birds. Shao Qing should’ve drugged her with his handkerchief ages ago. And yet, here they were conversing.
From this proximity, he assessed her figure. She was too slender to be fashionably beautiful, but she had a good head of hair and all her teeth. Her features were delicate, comparable to the most sought after courtesans in The Peony Pagoda. Her eyes were wide, her lashes wet from her earlier episode. Her lips were especially perfect. Full and shockingly red, with a symmetrical cupid’s bow.
They pressed into a harsh, thin line.
Shao Qing’s breath caught.
Strange! He wondered at his reaction. What had it been? Her beauty? Surely not. Shao Qing had come across plenty of pretty girls and he hadn’t felt any which way about them. There was something different about her—or about this place—that made him more aware of himself. For once he didn’t feel completely numb. He felt...awake. Just like he had when he stole the magistrate’s painting.
Shao Qing brought his gaze back to the girl’s eyes. She glared at him fiercely.
“If you’re worried about your prospects,” he said slowly, “the magistrate will keep you whether you paint or not.”
She caught his meaning easily enough. Miss Nong drew herself up to her full diminutive height while still remaining seated. “How dare you! You are the rudest, most rotten, most addle-brained egg I’ve ever had the displeasure of speaking to! Didn’t your mother teach you any manners?”
A bubble of amusement ran up his throat. Amusement! Shao Qing was compelled to crack a smile, though it was concealed beneath his mask. “I have no mother.”
Movement sounded outside—the shuffling of footsteps and the deep voices of guards.
Shao Qing turned, alert.
Such a range of feelings tonight , he mused.
It wasn’t entirely unwelcome. And neither was the light that shone through the latticed doors, silhouetting the approaching guards. He didn’t know how he’d been spotted, but getting out of a scrape was one of his favorite pastimes. Shao Qing scanned the room. It was an open planned suite, the sleeping area, sitting area, and study each sectioned off by a silk screen. The space was sparsely furnished. There was nowhere to hide.
He turned back to Miss Nong. “I don’t suppose there’s another way out?”
“I’ll tell the guards you’re here,” she choked out.
Surely the chit wasn’t threatening him.
“I’ll tell the guards unless you promise to return my master’s painting.”
“You’re in no position to make bargains, little girl.”
“I am not a little girl!”
Shao Qing held up his hand, his palm still moist from when she had licked it before. She scowled.
A harsh knock sounded at the door, the wooden frame rattling. “Open up. There’s an intruder on the loose.”
A triumphant gleam shone in Miss Nong’s eyes.
Before Shao Qing could stop her, she cupped her hands around her mouth. “Coming!”
Miss Nong smoothed the front of her robe and leaned back against the wall, a satisfied smirk playing at the edge of her perfect lips. “Well, thief? Make your choice.”
Shao Qing was aware of his blood rushing to his ears. And his heartbeat pounding faster. This was the thrill that came to him when he was at the threshold of trouble. It was glorious.
He was vaguely aware that if he did get caught, he’d spend the rest of his days behind bars. He could go completely numb in captivity—there would be no thieving to make his blood rush in prison. Perhaps he’d lose consciousness altogether and become a vegetable. The possibility was always at the periphery. An inevitable fate worse than death. And then death itself. There was still a conscious part of him that feared it.
Which meant he would have to accept this girl’s bargain. For now.
“Fine,” Shao Qing said.
There was an impatient knock at the door. “What’s going on in there?”
Miss Nong cupped a hand to her ear. “Fine what?”
So she liked to gloat. Shao Qing felt that bubble of amusement again. “Fine, I’ll return your master’s painting.”
She nodded, then threw her bed covers over his head. “Hide.”
Shao Qing obeyed, laying himself down.
The patter of feet and the sound of the door creaking open was muffled by the blankets.
“So sorry,” Miss Nong said with a stifled yawn. “I had just gone to bed. Did you say there was an intruder on the loose?”
“Yes. A man dressed in black. Have you noticed any movement, any suspicious noises?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“We were instructed to search every room. If you don’t mind, miss?”
“Oh yes, search as you please,” Miss Nong said calmly. She was an impressive actress, he’d give her that. “I’ll be off to bed, if you don’t mind. It’s dreadfully late.”
“Er...I don’t think that’s—”
“I must run an early errand for my master tomorrow. He needs supplies to replicate the painting that dirty thief stole. The faster my master finishes the painting the sooner Magistrate Bu will be happy. I reckon you don’t want to keep his lordship unhappy?”
“Of course not, miss.”
“Carry on then,” Miss Nong said. Light footsteps came closer. The bedclothes were lifted for a fraction of a second, then the girl threw herself on top of him and covered them both with the blankets.
The wind was knocked out of Shao Qing, but he slowly inhaled even as his face was suffocated by Miss Nong’s shoulder.
She smelled faintly of jasmine soap and pu’er tea. It was a pleasant scent. Shao Qing found himself inhaling deeper. He couldn’t remember the last time he had smelled something nice so acutely.
They stayed there for a good few minutes as the magistrate’s guards searched the room, the silence punctuated by occasional thumps. A pair of footsteps sounded closer.
“That will be all, miss,” the guard said from somewhere at the head of the bed.
Miss Nong gave a sleepy grunt. Shao Qing imagined she looked quite comfortable on the outside, belly down and cocooned in a generous mass of blankets.
In reality, most of that mass was him, and her limbs were tangled awkwardly with his. The late spring heat made the air stifling. She was all sharp elbows and knees. One of which was jabbing into his sternum most uncomfortably.
It felt like an eternity before the footsteps faded and the doors creaked shut. Miss Nong finally removed herself, releasing Shao Qing from the suffocating bedding. He sucked in a breath of air.
“Did they feed you chicken feed on the farm?” He rubbed the sore spot on his sternum.
Miss Nong’s face twisted in confusion. “No, I had rice like everyone else.” Then she mumbled something under her breath that sounded very much like, “Skies, is he crazy too?”
She straightened her clothes and sat back, watching him as he stood from the bed.
“Much thanks. I’m afraid I’ve disturbed you long enough.” He clasped his hands and bowed, then turned to the door.
“Sleep here tonight.”
Shao Qing turned back and raised a brow at the slight, rumpled figure on the bed. “I’m flattered, Miss Nong. But I’m afraid I’m not interested.”
“I don’t mean that, you scoundrel! How do I know you’ll keep your promise and return Master Dan’s painting?” she demanded.
She wouldn’t. Because he had no intention of keeping that promise. He didn’t know where her master’s painting had gone, and even with his newfound range of feelings, he realized he didn’t care. Yao had taken off with it. And knowing how efficient the thief lord was, it would be sold first thing in the morning.
“I gave you my word,” Shao Qing said.
“The word of a thief means little.”
Shao Qing considered his options. Either way, the girl had no power over him, despite what she may think. He could agree to stay but sneak out in the middle of the night. Or he could stay in earnest and see through the bargain.
In a span of a few minutes, Shao Qing had felt more than he had felt in years. There was something about Miss Nong that affected him. Perhaps he was close to his soul. And perhaps she’d be able to lead him to it. It was an intriguing prospect, even if he didn’t care too much for the end result. He was not opposed to an adventure, seeing as Yao and the gang would likely be lying low for some weeks. Besides, he was tired of running. At least for tonight.
He nodded. “Very well. Where do I sleep?”
***
S HAO QING SLEPT ON the floor. Despite the warm evening, Miss Nong had bundled up in her bed until she resembled a lump more than a girl before saying a brusque good night.
The floor was hard and Miss Nong hadn’t given him a pillow, but at least he had somewhere secure to stay until the morning.
Shao Qing closed his eyes and dreamed the same dream he had for six years.
He was a dragon. His scales shimmered gold, his claws gleaming a deep sapphire blue. Through soft, hazy vision, Shao Qing saw his tail sink into an open scroll. Silk. He struggled to move, but a dark, suffocating force sucked him in, compressing his body into line and ink. He only caught sight of a gilded scroll rod before darkness pressed down on him. Then he stayed there, sightless and frozen. Aware, yet unable to move.
Shao Qing knew the dream would go on that way, a night of infinite numbness.
But tonight, the dragon writhed and twisted between painted clouds.