5 – Zhi Lan
Z hi Lan had a fitful sleep, spending half the night wondering if she had gone mad inviting a criminal to her room. It was some time before dawn when she woke, the room shrouded in a soft, intimate sort of dimness. After making sure there was no movement from her guest, she peeked over the side of her bed. He resembled nothing more than a black mass on the floor, his chest rising and falling with even breaths.
Thank heavens he didn’t snore.
The thief had agreed to the sleeping arrangement easily enough. It was her bed after all, and she had rights to it, even if he had soiled it with his dirty criminal clothes. But she swore that he had sniffed her while they were hiding from the guards. Zhi Lan had expected him to charm and wheedle her into sharing a bed as befitting of an irritating man.
Instead he had laid himself on the floor, tucked his hands behind his head, and went to sleep without a word.
That should have relieved her, but it only made her more suspicious. Who was this thief? He was a scoundrel, a gentleman, and a criminal rolled into one. Polite yet impolite. Honorable yet dishonorable. He was wholly unpredictable, and that was dangerous.
Zhi Lan squinted. He slept with his mask still on, the lower half of his face a complete mystery. The upper half was nice enough, she supposed, when he wasn’t staring with those unsettling eyes of his. He had straight, elegant brows and high cheekbones. And the hint of a tall nose bridge.
What if he really was a demon? Had she damned herself and her entire family by associating with him? She shuddered. Even if it were so, he couldn’t be more dangerous than an angry magistrate. And if she were damned, at least it was for the sake of their livelihoods.
Just as the room began to lighten, Zhi Lan slipped out of bed and threw on her outer robe and yesterday’s skirt. She ducked past the silk screen that separated the sleeping area from the sitting area of her chamber, already overrun with nerves.
She wasn’t sure if she was important enough to be served, but a maidservant might enter at any moment and was bound to notice a man in her room, if only by smell alone. Zhi Lan wrinkled her nose as she breathed a little deeper. The thief utterly stank up the place with his odor, when before it had smelled like fresh soap and jasmine.
He had promised to return Master Dan’s painting, but she wasn’t about to let him out of her sight.
Which meant Zhi Lan would have to go with him today.
After rummaging around for paper and ink, she penned a quick note to Master Dan.
Master,
I have gone to the market this morning to purchase paint. I noticed you were running low on the brown pigment you like to use. I will be back much later, as I have personal errands to run.
Your dutiful disciple,
Zhi Lan
It was vague and may rouse suspicion, but Master Dan never pried. She hoped he wouldn’t think she had abandoned him. When she came back with the painting, it would all be made clear to him.
Zhi Lan glanced across the room where the thief was still sleeping. If she were to walk out of this room with him, he would need a disguise, and fast. She considered stealing one of Master Dan’s ensembles, but it would be hard to explain why she was suddenly in the company of an unnamed scholar if she were caught in the manor. She had better find him some servants’ clothes.
The servants’ quarters were located further back in the west wing, and after convincing a maid that she was looking for a spare blanket, Zhi Lan managed to grab one of the servants' uniforms from the shelves. She only hoped it would fit.
She hurried back into her room, making sure to close the door swiftly behind her. She was relieved to see the thief still there, but her relief quickly turned into indignation.
He was sitting at the desk where she had written Master Dan’s note. Except the desk was now covered in the contents of her bag. Her brushes, pigments, scrap pieces of silk, and the practice books Master Dan had given her demonstrating the standard subjects and techniques of a mountain and river painter, were splayed out as if on a market display. The thief didn’t even have the face to look ashamed.
“Just so you know, I have nothing good to steal,” Zhi Lan said, irritated.
“I wasn’t going to steal anything.” He picked up a piece of silk from the pile. It had a half-finished painting of a sparrow on it. “What’s this?”
Zhi Lan snatched it back. “None of your business.”
They were scraps of primed silk from Master Dan, only about a hand’s width wide. Zhi Lan had used them to practice. Some turned out nice enough to make into fans, though she never had the courage to solicit a fan maker to mount and sell them for her. She had a feeling she wouldn’t be taken seriously. It was a business venture for later, when she and Master Dan had garnered more fame.
“If you’re this stingy with your work, how do you expect to make any money?”
“I don’t! Because petty thieves like you might rob me blind,” she shot back. She shoved the servant's clothes at him. “Hurry and change. The house will be awake soon.”
He looked down at the clothing. “You condemn stealing, yet these are stolen.”
Zhi Lan sputtered. “I-I’ll return them eventually.”
“How so? Will you have me strip in the road when you’re done with me?”
She resisted the urge to scream. This was utter madness. She was exhausted, but her heart and mind were racing. She didn’t want to think too hard about what she was going to do.
Zhi Lan directed him behind the screen. “ Hurry . We should go before anyone else wakes up.”
“We?”
“I’m coming with you.”
There was a beat of silence behind the screen. “If it pleases you.”
None of this pleased her, but Zhi Lan didn’t waste her breath to argue. She quickly splashed her face with yesterday’s water and twisted her hair up with her pins. Then, she repacked her bag and looped her money pouch at her belt. Zhi Lan looked down at her current outfit—a simple bodice, a hemp outer robe, and an old skirt with wrinkled pleats. It would have to do. She doubted she needed to look all that presentable traipsing into a criminal lair. Or a demon’s lair.
“I ought to know your name, if we’re going to travel together,” she said, unnerved by the silence broken only by the soft swish of fabric.
The rustling from behind the screen paused. “It’s Shao Qing.”
It was a surprisingly boyish name, reminiscent of youth and springtide greens. It didn’t suit him at all.
“No family name?” Zhi Lan asked.
“I have no family.”
Not surprising. Zhi Lan wrung her hands together. She figured she should get one thing straight before stepping outside with him. And there was no polite way to say it.
“And what are you?”
Another pause. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
Zhi Lan pressed her hand to her cheek. Who knew questioning a criminal could be so mortifying? “Your eyes. They’re...”
Her words trailed off when Shao Qing emerged.
He had removed his scarf, revealing a straight nose, full lips, and a well-defined jaw. The steel blue servant’s uniform he donned was simple, but in much better condition than his previous dirty robes, the neatly pressed lines complimenting his broad shoulders and narrow hips.
The stinky vagabond was handsome.
“Rest assured, Miss Nong. I am as human as they come,” Shao Qing said.
Zhi Lan nodded woodenly. Somehow she was even more convinced now that he was a demon. It didn’t make sense for a criminal to have such beautiful features.
She couldn’t help the blush that rose to her cheeks, which irritated her. She refused to lose her head just because he had an uncommonly handsome face.
“Let’s go then,” Zhi Lan said.
Shao Qing inclined his head.
***
T HEY BARELY MADE IT five paces across the courtyard before they were seen.
Lady Bu stepped out of the main hall, accompanied by a maid. The lady’s eyes locked on hers. There was no escaping the meeting now.
“Lady Bu! Good morning.” Zhi Lan clasped her hands and bowed.
A waft of jasmine perfume washed over her as Lady Bu approached. “You’re the student of Master Dan, yes? We didn’t have the pleasure of speaking yesterday. What is your name again?”
“Nong Zhi Lan, your ladyship.”
She stole a look at Lady Bu. Up close, the magistrate’s wife was even more beautiful. She wore several layers of light silk robes, all varying shades of purple. Her hair was done up exquisitely, held together by golden pins, complementing her swan-like neck. Zhi Lan figured this was the closest she’d get to a noblewoman in her lifetime.
“Zhi Lan. Like an orchid,” Lady Bu said softly, folding her pale hands in front of her. “You do have the looks of a flower in bloom.”
Zhi Lan blushed. “Thank you, your ladyship.” A compliment from a woman was infinitely more flattering than one from a man.
“Are you finding your stay here comfortable?”
Not in the slightest. “Yes, of course.”
Lady Bu smiled. “I must apologize for my husband’s behavior the other night. His temper is...unpleasant at times.”
“Magistrate Bu’s anger was understandable,” Zhi Lan said quickly. She heard Shao Qing scoff under his breath, and she scrambled to conceal the sound by coughing loudly into her sleeve. “Excuse me.”
Lady Bu smiled. The expression became her, and Zhi Lan realized she hadn’t seen her smile at all in the magistrate’s presence. “Are you going somewhere?” the lady asked.
“Yes! I have errands to run for my master.”
“One typically doesn’t leave the ward without a pass.”
“Oh. I-I didn’t know.” Zhi Lan bemoaned her fate for a minute before Lady Bu produced an intricately carved wooden badge from her belt and presented it to her.
“You may show this to the guards on your way out,” she said. “It’s my personal pass.”
Zhi Lan took the pass with both hands. “Thank you, your ladyship!”
“You will be back today, yes?”
Zhi Lan glanced behind her at Shao Qing, who was standing quietly with downcast eyes. He didn’t seem to notice her silent question, so she turned back. “I hope so, your ladyship,” she said, hazarding a guess.
Lady Bu’s gaze slid curiously to Shao Qing. “This is...?”
“One of your manor’s servants,” Zhi Lan blurted out. “I’m borrowing him for the day, if that’s alright. To carry the cargo.”
The lady studied him for a moment. Zhi Lan hoped she didn’t immediately know that Shao Qing was not part of her staff. Ma claimed rich folks never remembered their servants’ faces.
To Zhi Lan’s relief, that seemed to be true. Lady Bu stepped aside and gestured to the gate.
“I’ll not keep you, then,” she said.
Zhi Lan bowed again. “Thank you for your generosity, Lady Bu.”
They made it past the manor gate without so much as a nod from the guards. Zhi Lan breathed a sigh of relief as she and Shao Qing headed down the street. She looked back at the front gates of Magistrate Bu’s manor. Bold calligraphy was pasted on the doors, reading “Fortune and Virtue”. She had found very little of either within those walls.
It was still relatively quiet outside. Zhi Lan inhaled and turned to the thief. “Where did you stash Master Dan’s painting?” she whispered. “Somewhere dry, I hope.”
“I don’t have it.”
The sky seemed to crash down on her in that moment. Zhi Lan wobbled on her feet. “What?”
Shao Qing spared her a sideways glance. “I don’t know where the painting is.”
“Then did you sell it? So quickly?” Zhi Lan demanded. She had expected a quick errand. This was unprecedented.
“My superior has it. Perhaps he already sold it, perhaps not.”
“Your superior?”
He nodded.
Shao Qing was in a band of thieves! It was bad enough she had to deal with one. Now she had to face a criminal leader . This was exactly the sort of trouble Ma had thought she would get into in the city.
“Then we better hurry,” Zhi Lan said, hoping her voice didn’t waver. She’d much rather be paint shopping instead of following a stranger into a den of criminals. But this was all for Master Dan and to ensure that both of them would be able to secure their fortune—and make it out alive. “Where does your superior live?”
“I can’t share that information,” Shao Qing said. “It would be better if I went alone.”
Zhi Lan clenched her jaw. “I won’t tell anyone.”
“I can’t take your word for that.”
“I’m going even if it means you have to blindfold me!”
He seemed to properly consider this. Zhi Lan wanted to kick herself. She had quite literally volunteered herself to be kidnapped!
“There’s no need,” Shao Qing finally said. “If Yao catches any constables in his vicinity, he’ll take care of you himself.”
Zhi Lan recoiled at that. “Well...fine!” Couldn’t be worse than hanging in the gallows. “Lead the way.”
“As you wish.”
He headed down toward the ward gate that led to the rest of the city. Zhi Lan’s heart beat wildly in her chest as she showed the guards Lady Bu’s pass. She was half convinced they were going to take one look at Shao Qing and pronounce him a thief, but the guards merely gave the pass a cursory glance before letting them through. She nearly melted with relief and tucked the badge into her sleeve.
Zhi Lan was only vaguely familiar with Zhu City’s marketplace and the vicinity around Magistrate Bu’s manor. She and Master Dan had only been in the city for a week before Magistrate Bu discovered them. Shao Qing, however, seemed to know every nook and cranny like the back of his hand. He took strange paths, ducking through corner shops and weaving into shadowy alleyways. Zhi Lan clutched her bag to her chest and hurried after him, feeling somewhat like a criminal herself.
They came to the end of an alleyway blocked off by a door nailed shut by a cracked wooden board. Shao Qing found an invisible foothold on the surface and climbed up like a cat, jumping onto the other side.
“Why are we traveling like we’re guilty?” Zhi Lan panted, climbing onto a rickety pile of crates and barrels.
“You’re still here,” Shao Qing said from the other side. His head appeared from over the door as he straightened.
“Of course I’m still here!” Zhi Lan cried. “We agreed you would take me to Master Dan’s painting, or have you already forgotten that?”
Or he was deliberately trying to lose her. The scoundrel.
“Why does it matter so much? Let your master paint another one,” he said.
Zhi Lan lifted her skirts and stepped onto another crate, holding out her hand for balance. “He can’t just paint another one!” She knew her master well enough. Last night he hadn’t even attempted to lift his brush, as if he had already given up. “The magistrate explicitly said he wants an exact replica.”
“I don’t see how that’s not possible.”
“It can’t be replicated! Master Dan painted Shui Jin Mountain on site. The brushstrokes, the composition, it was all spontaneous! It came at a moment of inspiration.”
Zhi Lan wobbled, the crates creaking in protest. A firm hand grasped hers. Shao Qing guided her to the top most barrel—which reeked of vomit and alcohol—and Zhi Lan managed to step over and straddle the door. The floor on the other side was thankfully more elevated. She stumbled down. Unfortunately, she stumbled right into Shao Qing’s arms.
“It is only lines and ink, is it not?” he said, glancing down at her. “You copy the paintings and techniques of other artists. Why is it impossible to copy your own?”
Zhi Lan tried not to notice the sturdiness of his chest or shoulders. “There is a freshness to a spontaneous mark. It cannot be replicated. The result would be utterly soulless.”
He smiled at that, an odd sort of smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Zhi Lan shuddered. Nothing seemed to reach his eyes. She quickly extricated herself and brushed off her robes, wondering if he had deliberately held her for that long to nettle her.
“I doubt the magistrate will be able to tell the difference,” Shao Qing said. “He only wants it for the sake of his pride.”
Zhi Lan set her jaw. “Even so—”
A small street urchin scampered up to her, no older than seven or eight.
“Miss, mister? Might you spare some change?”
The girl’s dirt-streaked face was thin, framed by matted hair. She looked like she hadn’t washed or eaten for ages.
Zhi Lan’s heart melted a little for the poor child. She reached for the money pouch at her belt—but her hands met air. It was gone.
“We don’t have any money. Be on your way,” Shao Qing said.
“But—”
“On your way,” he repeated, clamping a hand over the urchin’s shoulder and pushing her aside. There was a faint clinking sound.
The urchin squeaked and scampered away.
Zhi Lan frowned. “That wasn’t very nice.”
“Neither were they.” Shao Qing jutted his chin to the two small figures that disappeared around the corner. One of them was the girl urchin, the other was a boy Zhi Lan hadn’t seen.
Shao Qing held something out to her. She gasped.
“My pouch!” She snatched it back from him. “You stole it!”
“They would’ve stolen it if I hadn’t first. I recommend you keep your belongings somewhere more intimate.”
Zhi Lan’s eye twitched. She stuffed the pouch into her left sleeve.
They seemed to have passed through to the more impoverished side of the city, where the buildings weren’t quite so grand and the streets more unevenly paved. Zhi Lan knew there was a more direct path to the outskirts of the city—across the large bridge. He had been trying to lose her!
“I won’t give up so easily, so don’t bother trying that again.” Zhi Lan meant this as a threat, but really she was tired of jumping over walls.
Shao Qing glanced over his shoulder. “Trying what?”
She scowled, narrowing her eyes at him. This thief was as slippery as a river fish.
They walked for some time, Shao Qing always a few steps ahead with his longer strides. Thankfully he took a more straightforward path this time on the main roads. They passed by market stalls and a public bath house. Zhi Lan’s stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten since last night’s banquet, and she was already exhausted, but she carried on, determined to follow this errand to the end. After she got Master Dan’s painting, she’d eat as much as she liked.
The streets slowly populated as the sun rose higher in the sky. It seemed to Zhi Lan that they had walked for ages before the buildings grew more sparse, and straw cottages peppered the landscape in the distance, framed by the sprightly greens of the bamboo forest. The scene was beautiful and quaint, reminding her of her quiet village. She wished she had the leisure to paint it.
In her admiration, she hadn’t realized Shao Qing had stopped abruptly. Zhi Lan stumbled into his back, then righted herself.
“Have we arrived?” Zhi Lan looked around in confusion. They were still in the market, but they had stopped on the street between a tea house and an herbalist’s shop. Did the criminal leader live here?
She glanced down.
A small red pouch had fallen from somewhere on Shao Qing’s person. It had a blue silken tassel and a peach embroidered on the front. A rather feminine ornament for a man.
She bent to pick it up. The pouch was soft and well worn at the edges, though it appeared to be empty. “You dropped this.”
Shao Qing turned, looking somewhat disoriented before his eyes focused on the trinket pouch. A crease appeared between his brows and he swiftly took it from her, tucking it into the front folds of his robe. An intimate keepsake, then. Was it from a lover?
Zhi Lan didn’t have time to wonder.
“Forward,” Shao Qing said curtly. He continued on at a brisker pace than before.