16 – Zhi Lan
Z hi Lan reentered Magistrate Bu’s manor through the front gates, her heart at her throat.
Just outside, Shao Qing was climbing up the west wall. She kept her gaze lowered, not wanting to give away his position.
From the corner of her eye Zhi Lan saw a dark figure emerge over the roof.
At that moment, a servant girl walked past the courtyard, a basket of laundry tucked under her arm.
Zhi Lan ran to her side. “Excuse me!”
The servant girl looked at Zhi Lan expectantly. Shao Qing was making his way down, dangling from the lip of the roof several feet above the ground. His landing wouldn’t be a quiet one.
“Where has Magistrate Bu gone?” Zhi Lan asked quickly.
“His lordship is preparing for the tribunal, miss. Shall I let him know you’re looking for him?” the servant girl inquired.
“Oh, no! Not at all! Please, go on.”
The servant girl nodded and continued down her path.
Shao Qing landed on the west veranda with a heavy thump.
Zhi Lan coughed violently into her sleeve. The servant girl turned, her face puzzled.
“Apologies. Something in my throat,” Zhi Lan wheezed.
Shao Qing slipped into her room. The servant girl bobbed her head and disappeared into the east wing.
With a sigh, Zhi Lan quickly entered her room after him.
To her surprise, Master Dan was sitting at her desk, looking curiously at Shao Qing.
“There’s a stranger in your room, Zhi Lan,” Master Dan said after a beat of silence.
She bowed sheepishly. It seemed that Shao Qing hadn’t bothered to introduce himself. She made the introductions now.
“Ah. I’ve heard a great deal about you, young man,” Master Dan said once it was done.
Shao Qing bowed.
“Master, I meant to tell you that I went out, but I didn’t get the chance,” Zhi Lan said quickly.
Master Dan tilted his head in concern. “Never mind that. What did Magistrate Bu wish to speak to you about?”
Zhi Lan shuddered when she recalled the meeting. It was a lucky thing Lady Bu had come to her rescue. “Nothing,” she said, not wishing to share this with him. It was too soon and too humiliating.
“Did the magistrate give you that bruise?” Shao Qing asked from his corner.
Master Dan furrowed his brow at this. “Bruise? He laid his hands on you?”
Zhi Lan felt like shrinking. “I’d rather not speak of this, Master Dan.”
This seemed to tell him all he wished to know. “Zhi Lan. Don’t be ashamed,” Master Dan said gently. “If anyone should feel shame, it should be the magistrate. And me. You are under my care. I’ve done you a disservice by putting you at the mercy of a dishonorable man.”
Tears suddenly stung Zhi Lan’s eyes. She had thought that she had composed herself already, but evidently not. Her vision blurred, rendering the image of her dear master to a white blob. “I-I...”
“There, there child. Don’t cry,” he said, standing to pat her hand. “I think it’s time that we leave this place.”
“Leave?” Zhi Lan sniffed and wiped her eyes. “But he’s our patron!”
“He’s a brute and an immoral man,” Master Dan said with a firm shake of his head. “I had suspected, but it’s never been clearer now. I daresay you’ve suffered much on my behalf. I won’t allow it to go on any longer.” His gaze softened. “This is why I wanted you to go home, child. This life isn’t safe for you like it is safe for me.”
“But Master—”
“No one harms my student,” Master Dan said firmly. “I will speak to his lordship before the day is done.”
Zhi Lan stayed silent, not wishing to be the cause of Master Dan making such a drastic decision. She had offended Magistrate Bu that morning. If anything, she should be the one to leave. Master Dan could still benefit from his patronage. Still, Zhi Lan knew her master was not the sort of man who only cared for his own gain. She was touched by his concern for her and grateful for his gentility. There were not many men like him.
“Perhaps we can talk about this later,” Zhi Lan said reluctantly. “But first, I brought Shao Qing here because...”
Master Dan nodded. “Ah, yes. I remember.” He turned to Shao Qing. “May you find your soul, young man.”
Shao Qing bowed again. “Thank you, sir.”
After waiting for the servants to pass, the two of them slipped quickly into the art room.
Zhi Lan closed the door behind her softly. “It’s in here.” She was still discomfited from earlier, but forced herself to calm. It wouldn’t do to get distracted now. She had brought a thief into the magistrate’s manor, and she needed a clear mind to get him out without notice.
The room was as she had seen it last, a cluttered collection of precious treasures, each one stacked on top of another.
Shao Qing gave a low whistle. “Impressive.”
They passed the crowded walls of paintings and calligraphy. Zhi Lan mourned that none of them would ever be appreciated as they should. It was clear now that Magistrate Bu did not admire art—not truly. It was only a symbol of status and wealth to him. What a waste for such a collection to belong to such a man.
Zhi Lan recalled that the magistrate’s steward had placed the painting on a circular shelf in the far left corner of the room. She went there now, pulling Shao Qing with her, then stopped abruptly.
It had also been the corner full of bawdy artwork.
Zhi Lan’s cheeks heated when her eyes flew over the silk screen that depicted the couple underneath the willow tree. What had it been called?
Scenery of the Spring Palace .
Shao Qing raised an eyebrow at the screen. “If this is what you wanted to show me, we could have stayed at the pleasure house.”
“This is not what I wanted to show you,” Zhi Lan whispered harshly. She felt warm all over. She turned to the shelf in front of her, rummaging through the many scrolls, bronze sculptures, and jade statuettes. “Help me look, will you?”
He obliged. They opened each scroll, revealing paintings of tigers and forests, bold calligraphy and classic poems. Zhi Lan didn’t bother being neat when she put the scrolls away. She had a feeling the magistrate did not frequent his hoard as often as he had people think.
Shao Qing’s hand closed around a scroll at the very bottom shelf. He stilled.
Zhi Lan knelt on the floor beside him, her eyes wide. “Do you feel something?”
“I think so,” he said, his voice hoarse. It was the most emotion Zhi Lan had ever heard from him.
“Let’s have a look, then.”
Shao Qing withdrew the scroll, his hand shaking as he undid the ties. The painting unfurled.
It was just as Zhi Lan remembered. The dragon was rendered with loose brushstrokes, its body curved like a winding river between wispy clouds, its mane gold and its horns a sapphire blue. Now Zhi Lan knew why it looked so life-like. When Shao Qing brushed his hands over the paper, the painting rippled, and suddenly it was moving— actually moving.
Zhi Lan gaped. The dragon reared up and weaved over the page, exploring one corner, then the next. Its tail flicked through the clouds, splitting them into smaller puffs of white. It reared and clawed at them like it wanted to tear its way out of the paper, though some invisible barrier stopped it. It was the most stunning piece of art Zhi Lan had ever set her eyes on.
“It can’t leave,” Shao Qing said. If he was disappointed, Zhi Lan couldn’t tell. They crouched over it, silent.
She had half-expected the dragon to jump out and return to its owner in some way—though she wasn’t sure. This was her first run in with anything remotely supernatural.
Shao Qing made a move to stand, but Zhi Lan pulled him back down.
“We’re not leaving until we figure this out,” she insisted.
He only shrugged.
Zhi Lan squinted at the thief, then at the dragon. Shao Qing stared back with his beige, blank eyes.
The dragon’s eyes were also blank. Two empty circles the color of parchment.
“That’s it!”
Zhi Lan fumbled for the pouch at her belt. She never went anywhere without her painting supplies. Having a brush and ink on hand was very convenient when inspiration struck.
“What is it?” Shao Qing asked, watching her unload a miniature inkstone and ink stick, a brush, and a vial of water.
“Just wait.” Zhi Lan dribbled water into the inkstone and ground it quickly with her inkstick. It was Master Dan’s cinnabar brown that she had purchased in Yun City. She’d forgotten to give it to him last night.
“Are you going to vandalize my soul?” Shao Qing said when she dipped her brush into the ink and hovered it over the scroll. He splayed his hand over the dragon.
“I’ll do nothing of the sort!” Zhi Lan had never vandalized anything in her life, much less a piece of art she admired. “Don’t you trust me?”
“I’ve known you for three days.”
“Yet you’ll follow me anywhere,” Zhi Lan said, echoing his words to her earlier. She meant it to be a teasing comment, and she was so used to Shao Qing not reacting that it shocked her when his ears grew red. He slowly removed his hand.
She felt vindicated by this, knowing in her gut that what she was about to do was the right thing.
The dragon seemed curious, following the tip of Zhi Lan’s brush with its nose.
Slowly, with a steady hand that would make Master Dan proud, Zhi Lan dotted the pigment on the dragon’s right eye. Then, the left.
The dragon glowed, illuminating their surroundings in golden light. It reared from its page with a silent roar. Its body, now suspended in the air, was made up of wisps of gold lines. Some of them bled toward Shao Qing and tethered to him like shimmering fibers, as if revealing what had been there all along—the pieces of his soul that still clung to him.
Zhi Lan held her breath.
In a swift, arcing motion, the dragon hurtled toward her.
Zhi Lan shrieked.
It danced around her in a joyous manner, its tail flicking the ends of her hair and curling around her shoulders. A puff of cool air brushed her cheek as the dragon nuzzled her ear. A ghostly caress. It was a playful soul, she realized.
Shao Qing’s face twisted into an unreadable expression as he watched the dragon nestle on her shoulders.
“Why is it on me?” Zhi Lan asked, appalled. She wanted to remove it, but the dragon was like a heavy mist—present yet insubstantial. She was sure her fingers would pass right through it. And besides, touching Shao Qing’s soul felt a little strange. “Doesn’t it recognize you?”
Shao Qing scoffed.
The dragon scoffed right back.
“Maybe it’s mad at you for giving it away.” Zhi Lan felt the dragon’s whiskers tickle her cheek.
“I’ve been fine without it.”
“You have not.”
Shao Qing seemed to consider this, but made no answer.
“I’m not keeping it,” Zhi Lan said crossly. “You might as well take it since we went through all this trouble.”
He remained frustratingly silent, seemingly not in the mood to argue. Zhi Lan wasn’t either.
“Su Su would want you to have it back,” she said quietly.
Shao Qing grazed his hand over his chest where he kept the red pouch. He stared at the dragon for a moment, then, hesitantly, he reached out a finger to touch its miniature horns. The dragon slithered from Zhi Lan’s shoulders, following Shao Qing’s hand.
Like ink in water, the creature suddenly dissolved into ribbons of gold, spiraling around his finger and arcing over his body. Finally, like a rushing river, it flowed into his chest and disappeared. Shao Qing staggered back with a gasp, stumbling into the wall behind them.
“Are you alright?” Zhi Lan cried. She took his arm. He had knocked down a painting above them. The heavy brocade fell onto his head, depicting a man and no less than three women engaging in illicit pleasures.
Zhi Lan looked heavenward, cursing Magistrate Bu and his perverted tastes. As if she needed this on top of everything else! She tossed the painting aside. Shao Qing groaned.
“Shao Qing?” she asked, nervous when he didn’t answer.
What if having his soul back made him go mad? Or what if he proved to be a very different person than Zhi Lan assumed him to be? He could very well be a cold-hearted criminal at his core.
Her worries were not appeased when Shao Qing began to shake. It was an uncontrollable convulsing, and he gasped as if he had become possessed by some evil spirit.
Zhi Lan sat back uneasily, but she steeled herself. He had helped her, so she would stay and return the favor no matter what condition he ended up in. Whatever happened, she would make it right.
When Shao Qing finally looked up, Zhi Lan realized that he had been weeping. His nose was red and tears streamed from his eyes.
Eyes that were a deep, soulful brown.