14 – Zhi Lan
Z hi Lan showed the guards at the manor gate her badge from Lady Bu, which luckily survived the ordeal at the pond. She was let in without comment.
In the courtyard, servants rushed to and fro, preparing for the evening meal. No one paid her any mind as Zhi Lan slipped into her room.
She was relieved to find everything as she left it.
Zhi Lan quickly changed into clean clothes. Regretfully, there was no time for a bath to wash the pond scum off of her skin, so she settled with splashing her face and raking a comb through her hair. After grabbing the cinnabar brown pigment she had bought and the ruined painting of Shui Jin Mountain, she knocked on Master Dan’s door that adjoined her own room.
Her heart was at her throat as she waited.
What if he wasn’t there? What if Magistrate Bu had sent him to the gallows, or shut him up in some sort of torture chamber? Her poor, scholarly master would never survive such cruel tactics.
Her racing thoughts quieted when Master Dan’s voice came from within.
“Come in.”
Zhi Lan exhaled and pushed the door open.
Master Dan sat behind his desk, a brush in hand and a painting before him. His white robes were neat and there wasn’t a hair on his head out of place. The sight was so comforting and familiar she almost wept. It felt like an eternity since she’d last seen him.
He raised his eyebrows at her entrance. “Zhi Lan. I thought you finally listened to me and left.”
“I would never leave you, Master Dan,” Zhi Lan insisted, stepping over the raised threshold. “I told you I was running an errand.”
He smiled at her, as if he were not surprised by this. “Come here, then. Tell me what you think.”
She approached his table, her eyes falling on the painting he was working on. “Oh!”
Upon the silk was a near replica of his original painting of Shui Jin Mountain, from the sloping rocks to the frothy white waterfall.
“You’ve done it,” Zhi Lan said in a hushed voice. She knelt across from him. “But...I thought it was impossible!”
“Anything is possible when one’s life is on the line,” Master Dan said, his eyes sparkling. It sounded like a jest.
Zhi Lan ducked her head. Suddenly, she felt extremely foolish. “Magistrate Bu didn’t give you a hard time when I was gone, did he?”
“Ah, him? His tantrum is ongoing, but nothing terrible has befallen me. I can handle a few glares and curses,” her master said. “He did ask where you were, though. I told him you were running errands for me. I presume that’s only half true?”
Zhi Lan fidgeted. Heat blazed her cheeks. The ruined painting in her hand felt heavy and useless.
Master Dan waited patiently for her to say more.
Zhi Lan should’ve known that Master Dan would’ve been fine on his own. She hadn’t considered the possibility that Magistrate Bu’s threat was merely a passing comment made in anger. He was the most powerful man Zhi Lan had ever met in her life. How was she supposed to know whether he meant his threats or not?
All this time, she could have very well stayed and helped Master Dan with his painting instead of going on a wild goose chase with Shao Qing. She had been convinced that following the thief was the swiftest option to set things right.
She had grossly overreacted.
“I’ve done something very stupid,” Zhi Lan confessed.
“Did you buy the wrong paint?” Master Dan asked mildly.
She buried her face into her hands, wondering if she was about to scandalize her poor master.
“I...I was trying to get your painting back,” Zhi Lan said. “From the thief who stole it.”
With a deep breath, she told him of Shao Qing coming to her room, of the deal she struck with him, and the trail they had followed to Yun City to steal back the painting. Master Dan listened to all of this with serene silence, raising his brows every now and then.
“We nearly got caught. Magistrate Li saw my face. I’m afraid we can no longer travel there,” she said sheepishly.
Master Dan shook his head. “You didn’t have to go to such lengths for me, child.”
Zhi Lan hung her head. “My reasons were somewhat selfish. Everything was going so well for us. For me. I didn’t want to lose this opportunity.”
“That’s understandable.”
“After Magistrate Bu’s banquet—”
“You mean his temper tantrum.”
Zhi Lan let out a startled laugh. “Well yes, after that. What he said about letting you hang...” She shuddered. “You seemed hopeless that night. I was certain you wouldn’t be able to do the replica. In any case...I got the original back.” She opened the sodden painting in her arms, rolling it out before Master Dan. It had only gotten worse during the journey. The silk was badly buckled. Only vague blotches of color remained. Some of the ink had transferred onto the back of the brocade.
Master Dan sighed. They had a moment of mournful silence for the masterpiece that had been.
“You always said that everything we paint should have a deeper meaning,” Zhi Lan said, crossing her arms and laying her head on the table. She was dreadfully tired. “Repainting this must’ve been difficult for you.”
Her master patted her arm. “I’m afraid my ideologies have held me back, child. This was more difficult for me than it ought to have been. And it seems I gave you such a fright that you resorted to desperate measures.” He tapped the back of his brush to his current work in progress. “Perhaps there is less soul in this replica than the original, but it functions as it should. In any case, others may assign their own meaning upon seeing it. This painting possesses deeper meaning regardless of whether I intended it or not. I am satisfied with that. Are you, Zhi Lan?”
Zhi Lan nodded slowly. “May I ask you something, Master Dan?”
“Of course.”
“What you said about people assigning deeper meaning to art...do you think that can apply to a person as well?”
Master Dan stroked his beard. “I believe so.”
“Is it possible to think better of someone, to think they are good and kind, even if they claim they don’t have the capacity for it?”
“How you view a person depends on how you view the world. If you see the world as good and kind, it’s only natural you will find those qualities in the people you meet.”
Zhi Lan lifted her head, thinking this over. What if she had deluded herself about the kind of person Shao Qing was? He was like a blank piece of paper, and she had merely drawn a picture right over him. She wanted to believe he was a good man in need of saving. But she was always rushing into things, trusting her gut and reacting accordingly. She had overreacted with Magistrate Bu’s threat. Who knew whether her instincts about Shao Qing were correct, or if she were merely assigning deeper meaning to him when there was none?
She had never been so unsure in her life.
“Are you thinking about your thief?” Master Dan said, raising his eyebrows.
Zhi Lan made a face. “He is not my thief. But yes, I was. There is something unusual about him.”
Quickly, she told Master Dan of Shao Qing’s soulless condition, his demonic bargain, and the promise she had made to find his soul. She also told him of the small, kind things she had noticed about him. She didn’t tell him the specifics of Shao Qing’s sister—that part was not for her to share.
“He’s honorable in spite of being soulless,” Zhi Lan admitted. “He kept his word to me. And I...I suppose I just want to help.”
“From what you told me, I think his soul is worth finding,” Master Dan said kindly. “You are a good girl, Zhi Lan. This Shao Qing is lucky to have you.”
She rolled her eyes at this, knowing her master was openly teasing her now. Then, she sat up, suddenly alert. “Do you remember that dragon painting in Magistrate Bu’s collection?”
***
T HE NEXT MORNING, MAGISTRATE Bu summoned them to the parlor.
Master Dan and Zhi Lan went immediately after breakfast, bearing the finished replica of Shui Jin Mountain. Zhi Lan was as nervous as she had been three days ago when she had first stepped foot in the magistrate’s manor—though this time, it was for an entirely different reason.
Just as they passed the threshold of the parlor, Zhi Lan caught a glimpse of the door that led to Magistrate Bu’s art collection. Her heart beat a little faster when she thought of what could possibly be inside. She’d have to look into it later. And maybe in the afternoon, she’d make some excuse to go out and find Shao Qing.
“Your lordship,” Master Dan said, bowing low.
Zhi Lan scrambled to do the same.
Magistrate Bu was reclined on a cushioned chair, watching a maid pour him tea. “Ah, Li Chen. I see your little apprentice is back.”
Zhi Lan lowered her head, keeping her gaze downcast.
“I apologize for her sudden absence,” Master Dan said. “Zhi Lan was fetching paint for me. I’m very particular about the type I get.”
Magistrate Bu was silent as he swirled his tea. “You have what I asked for?”
Master Dan stepped forward and offered the replica scroll to him. The magistrate took it and unfurled it slowly, his narrowed eyes assessing the picture as it revealed itself.
“Very good,” Magistrate Bu said at last. He looked up, smiling. “Now all that is left is to find the thief who stole from me. I hope to have this matter solved today.”
Zhi Lan blinked. A part of her had thought he would let it go once he got the replicated painting in his hands. But she realized how naive that was. It wasn’t about the painting at all. It was about the magistrate’s pride. His position. He needed to make an example of those who stole from him.
“Who accompanied you during your errand, Miss Zhi Lan?” Magistrate Bu said, suddenly addressing her.
She grew cold. “No one, my lord.”
“No one? That’s unusual, for a young woman.”
“I’m from a farming village. Very few of us need accompaniment on errands.”
Magistrate Bu sipped his tea. “According to my guards, you left with a male servant of mine.”
Zhi Lan wanted to kick herself. Shao Qing hadn’t gone unnoticed after all.
“Forgive me, your lordship,” Master Dan cut in. “My student is merely confused. She had not much rest and—”
Magistrate Bu held up a hand. “Leave us for a moment, Li Chen. I wish to speak with your student alone.”
Master Dan frowned, throwing Zhi Lan a concerned look. She nodded ever so slightly, telling him that she’d be fine. It was a bold faced lie—she was panicking. But she didn’t want her master involved in whatever this was.
Master Dan bowed and exited the parlor, leaving Zhi Lan and the magistrate alone. She realized that the servants had inconspicuously left in the middle of the meeting. Every muscle in her body tensed.
“Straighten up, my dear. No one likes a wilting flower.”
Stiffly, Zhi Lan straightened. She kept her gaze on the floor.
Magistrate Bu stood from his seat, his silk robe rustling as he walked in a slow circle around her.
Her breathing grew shallow as his pristine shoes stopped inches before hers.
“You are a very tempting thing, you know?” Magistrate Bu purred. He reached out, tugging a strand of hair behind her ear.
Zhi Lan flinched away. The magistrate withdrew, chuckling.
She clenched her jaw, equal parts dismayed and terrified. Magistrate Bu was exactly who Zhi Lan suspected he was from the beginning—a sick bastard who liked having women at his mercy.
In her village, taking advantage of girls was condemned. Men like him were shamed or driven out. But Zhu City wasn’t the village. She recalled what Yao and Shao Qing had said: The ones in charge of justice were often the source of injustice.
They were right.
“Two days ago you left my home with a man who was not in my employ, and then you came back without him. Who was he?” Magistrate Bu asked. He was too close. Close enough that Zhi Lan could count the silken stitches that made up the bamboo embroidered on his robe.
“You must be mistaken, my lord,” Zhi Lan said, sticking to her story. Her palms grew clammy. “I left alone.”
“Did you know lying to a magistrate is a punishable offense?” Magistrate Bu said in a low, soft voice, his sour breath washing over her face. “Fifty strikes of a bamboo rod and five years of hard labor.”
Zhi Lan trembled in spite of herself.
He closed a heavy hand around her shoulder and squeezed, his hard fingers digging into her flesh. “A beauty like you should never suffer such a fate,” he crooned. “You deserve to be dripping in gold and jade, sleeping in silk sheets. I can give you that. Only if you tell me who you are protecting. Whatever he can give you, I can give you ten thousand times over.”
She was reminded of the nobleman who had propositioned her all those years ago, of his leering face, his pretty promises, and unbidden touches.
Zhi Lan wished to scream, to withdraw and condemn him for such advances. But this man was the magistrate of the city. She was merely a farm girl at his mercy.
To protect herself in one way was to endanger herself in another.
Once again, Zhi Lan was faced with a smart choice and a principled choice. She could save herself and Master Dan by accepting the magistrate’s offer. She’d be gaining a lavish future. Her family would benefit.
Or she could refuse him and suffer the consequences. She knew herself too well for the decision to be difficult.
“I don’t like gold or jade, my lord,” Zhi Lan said quietly. She met the magistrate’s eyes, hoping he saw her defiance and not her fear. “As for silk? I only wish for the kind to paint on.”
Magistrate Bu’s face hardened, his lips drawing back in a snarl. His hold on Zhi Lan tightened, his thumb digging into her collarbone with bruising force. “I’ll teach you a lesson, you—”
“Husband.” A soft yet commanding voice interrupted his threat. “You were not at breakfast.”
Lady Bu swept in, dressed in regal blue, her face serene. Her steps were purposeful as she stopped beside Zhi Lan and greeted Magistrate Bu with a bow.
“Wife,” the magistrate growled, letting go of Zhi Lan’s shoulder. She sucked in a uneven breath.
Lady Bu straightened. The lady stood nearly a full head taller than Zhi Lan, meeting the magistrate eye to eye. “I’m afraid I must take Miss Nong from you. She has agreed to accompany me out for the day.”
He sneered. “Get some maidservant or other. I’m talking to her.”
“I am visiting my father today,” Lady Bu said. The magistrate stiffened at this. “I have told him of the painters we’ve acquired recently. He wants to meet them.”
Magistrate Bu threw down his arms, his sleeves snapping behind him. With a poisonous glare, he said, “Give Magistrate Li my regards.”
Lady Bu and Zhi Lan walked out of the parlor in silence.
Tears blurred Zhi Lan’s vision and she swiped them away. She felt angry and helpless and terrified all at once.
“You were very brave,” Lady Bu finally said, her voice gentler now that she was no longer speaking to her husband.
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, my lady,” Zhi Lan stammered. It wouldn’t be polite to speak of such things out loud.
Lady Bu stopped beside a rock sculpture, regarding her silently. Zhi Lan wondered if the lady blamed her for seducing her husband. But her next words were not about the magistrate at all.
“Tell me about the young man you left with that morning. Who is he really?”
Zhi Lan looked up, her mouth growing dry. She couldn’t be sure whether she could fully trust Lady Bu. What if she were trying to get information from her on the magistrate’s behalf?
“I will not tell my husband,” the lady said, sensing Zhi Lan’s hesitation. “I have no wish to help him. I’m only...curious.”
Lady Bu’s eyes were pleading, though Zhi Lan couldn’t imagine why. Still, there was an earnestness to her face and she had been nothing but kind so far.
“He’s...not a servant,” Zhi Lan admitted. She still thought it unwise to admit that Shao Qing was the thief the magistrate was looking for.
Lady Bu didn’t seem to mind this. “What is his name?”
“Shao Qing, my lady.”
“Do you know of his family?” she asked.
“He’s an orphan.”
Lady Bu furrowed her brows. “Did his parents pass?”
“I don’t know, my lady. He says he was found behind a pleasure house.”
“In this city?”
Zhi Lan nodded uncertainly, wondering why Lady Bu was so interested in Shao Qing’s background.
“Thank you for telling me.” She rested her hand on Zhi Lan’s shoulder, her touch gentle where the magistrate’s had been punishing. “Are you in pain?”
Zhi Lan shook her head. There was some pain, but it was nothing compared to what she thought was going to happen. She felt like crying again. “How do you stand him?” she hazarded to ask. “Does he hurt you like this?”
Lady Bu smiled mirthlessly. “He won’t touch me unless I permit it. I am not powerless. I have my family behind me. But you...”
Zhi Lan didn’t need to hear the rest. She knew her background was humble and that she was an easy target for someone like the magistrate. Meanwhile, Lady Bu was the daughter of someone of equal standing as Magistrate Bu. She blinked, suddenly nervous.
“You don’t truly mean to bring me to Magistrate Li, do you, my lady?” Zhi Lan asked.
Lady Bu’s smile softened. “Not if you wish it. But you ought to follow me out in any case. It’s best to avoid my husband when he is angry.”
They made it out the gate. A carriage was waiting outside, and Lady Bu ascended it, drawing the window curtain aside to peer out at Zhi Lan.
“Do you have somewhere to go?” the lady asked. “Let me drop you off.”
Zhi Lan clasped her hands and bowed. “Thank you, Lady Bu. I will be fine on my own.”
“Then the best of luck to you, child.”
The lady and her carriage clip clopped down the road in the direction of the city gate. Zhi Lan sighed, shielding her eyes from the sun.
A clash of a bell sounded near the yamen , but Zhi Lan was too far away to investigate. Since she was out, she might as well run her errand early. She had planned to go back to Yao and An Qin and ask them about Shao Qing’s whereabouts. It was too bad she hadn’t had the chance to look into the magistrate’s art room or speak to Master Dan, but there was no turning back now.
Poor Master Dan. She was proving to be an unwieldy student to him.
Zhi Lan followed the winding path Shao Qing had first taken her through. She even managed to make it over the boarded up door in the alleyway without help. After scaling walls and running along roofs, a climb over a door wasn’t so bad.
As she straightened her skirts, someone tugged on her sleeve.
It was the little street urchin who had attempted to rob her a few days before. She looked cleaner now, her small face wiped clean of dirt and her tattered robe replaced by a sturdy green one that looked a tad too big for her.
“I have nothing to steal,” Zhi Lan said crossly, shaking her sleeve free.
“I came to say thank you for the money, miss,” the girl said. “The young master who gave it to me said it was yours.”
Zhi Lan tilted her head at this. “When did he tell you that?”
“Last night. I saw him and wondered if he had more to give me,” the urchin said.
Her lips tugged up. “And did he?”
“He told me to go to the herbalist shop for a job. I’m respectable now,” the urchin said, patting her puny chest.
If Zhi Lan had any lingering doubts, they eased slightly. It appeared that Shao Qing had a heart after all. Zhi Lan squatted so she was level with the little urchin. “I’m looking for this young master,” she said. “Have you seen him today?”
To her relief, the urchin nodded. “He went to the place where adults go.”
Zhi Lan frowned at this. “Where’s that?”
The urchin merely took her sleeve again and led Zhi Lan down the street. After a few turns, they stopped in front of a three-story building.
“There,” the urchin said.
Zhi Lan swallowed, her gaze sweeping over the gaudy red banners and perfumed women giggling near the windows.
Skies. She couldn’t believe she was about to walk into a pleasure house for some stinky thief.