20 – Zhi Lan
Z hi Lan had to admit that the handsome, smiling young man was completely unlike the thief she had known. His enthusiasm was almost childlike as he showed her his family manor, pointing out the smallest of details, from the wood beams on the ceiling to a crescent shaped scratch on a post.
Wealth suited Shao Qing immensely. He was dressed in fine robes with the wide sleeves of the nobility, half his hair smoothed into a neat top knot and the lower half cascading down his back like a brushstroke. His elegant features were no longer at odds with his dress.
Shao Qing led Zhi Lan back outside. They sat on a stone bench below a willow tree, the breeze rustling the boughs.
Zhi Lan brushed off a few leaves that landed on her, not knowing what to say. She had donned her best clothes—made of silk, recently acquired. She’d even used a hint of rouge on her lips. Zhi Lan told herself it was because she didn’t want to look out of place amongst the lavish manor, but a part of her knew that wasn’t entirely the case.
She had thought about Shao Qing for the past couple of months—perhaps more than she should have. She missed having someone to argue with during the peaceful weeks of painting and traveling with Master Dan. Nearly every day she regretted that she hadn’t said a proper goodbye. She had assumed if they had a chance to speak again, the right words would find her.
How utterly wrong she was.
“You look well,” Shao Qing said. His words, though somewhat stilted, broke the awkward silence. He seemed to have a hard time meeting her eyes, though she couldn’t imagine why. Their manners had been so easy before.
“So do you,” Zhi Lan murmured. She glanced around the large manor. “Have you adjusted to life here?”
“Somewhat. It takes...getting used to.” Shao Qing lifted his arms, looking at his large sleeves like they were extra appendages.
Zhi Lan laughed.
His eyes lit up, a slight smile turning up the corners of his mouth.
“Your parents and Magistrate Li have been kind to you, yes?”
“They have. More than I deserve.”
“Everyone deserves kindness,” Zhi Lan said. Then, added quickly, “Including stinky vagabonds like you.”
Shao Qing chuckled. She marveled at the way it transformed him. It was the first time she had seen him laugh, and it made him twice as handsome.
Zhi Lan suddenly felt shy.
The last time they had been this close, he’d been kissing her senseless. She banished the thought immediately. He probably didn’t even remember, being half delirious at the time. Meanwhile, the memory had burned itself into her brain. It had cost her a few restless nights.
“Master Dan and I found another patron,” Zhi Lan continued, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks. This she could talk about without embarrassment. After Magistrate Bu had been demoted, there had been quite a buzz about the scholar painter caught in the middle of the whirlwind drama. She told Shao Qing about the marquess who had taken a liking to Master Dan’s work, and how he had purchased a few of his paintings and rewarded each of them generously. “Even me, though I’ve done little else but grind ink,” Zhi Lan said with a laugh. “I daresay I have a modest dowry now.”
Shao Qing tilted his head at this.
She cleared her throat. “Not that I plan on marrying any time soon. The marquess wants to take Master Dan and I to the capital city next week.”
“Next week. That’s soon.”
“It is.” Zhi Lan had barely wrapped her head around it herself. She was happy for Master Dan, of course. She didn’t want to admit it to him, but she had grown rather weary of big cities, and missed the early days when they had taken excursions to mountains and rivers. She even missed her village and her rambunctious brothers.
“Zhi Lan?”
She jumped, realizing that Shao Qing had said something.
“Sorry, I wasn’t listening,” she said sheepishly.
“I said you don’t seem excited about the prospect.”
“You can read minds now that you’ve got your soul back, hm?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You wear your heart on your sleeve. It’s not difficult to know what you’re feeling.”
Zhi Lan looked away, oddly thrilled with the idea that he knew her feelings and kicking herself for it. He was a magistrate’s grandson, and far above her station. Now he was even more unsuitable for her than when he had been a lowly thief.
“How long have you been learning from Master Dan?” Shao Qing asked.
“Almost a full year now.” Nearly one year since Zhi Lan had gone home. She wanted to return with the monetary rewards the marquess had given her, but what then? A part of her was disappointed in herself. She had expected to be further along her career at this point.
“Have you thought about finding your own patron?”
Zhi Lan fidgeted with her sleeves. “No. I’m not sure if that path appeals to me anymore.”
After the whole debacle with Magistrate Bu, she realized the drama and fickleness of bureaucrats were not to her taste. Nor was the prospect of being someone’s trophy artist, painting only what her patron wanted her to paint. Zhi Lan wanted to be an artist for herself. She figured she was better off selling in the street markets than pandering to one person in particular. Perhaps she’d finally muster up the courage to find a fan maker to mount her miniature paintings. If the common folk found joy in her artwork, that would be enough for her.
Zhi Lan had yet to convey this to Master Dan, but she felt that she would have to very soon.
“What if I become your patron?” Shao Qing said, breaking her train of thought.
Zhi Lan stared at him incredulously. “You? But you don’t even like art!”
Shao Qing grinned. “That was before I had a soul. Maybe now I have a ravenous taste for it.”
“I doubt it,” she said with a scoff.
“I’ll follow you anywhere you want to go,” he continued, echoing his sentiment from all those months ago. When he had first said it, Zhi Lan figured he hadn’t meant it. But now, with his eyes so dark and soulful, she couldn’t help but think he was earnest.
“I think I will go back to my village. It’s between two mountains. Very remote.”
“That sounds nice.”
“I’d like to paint rivers and mountains, like Master Dan. I’ll need someone to grind ink for me.”
“I’ll be happy to.”
“I’ll make you carry all our bags.”
Shao Qing nodded. “I’m strong enough for it.”
Zhi Lan threw him an exasperated look. Surely he was teasing her.
“You seem to have objections,” Shao Qing said. “I know I was rough and rude and offended you countless times. But I can change, if that’s what you want.”
Zhi Lan wondered at this comment. What could he possibly mean by it? “Don’t be ridiculous. I like you as you are.”
A hesitant smile spread across his face. “You like me?”
She turned away before she smiled back. “Why do you insist on leaving here? Don’t you want to enjoy your new life for a bit?”
From the corner of her vision, his smile faded. “I’m grateful for it, of course. But I’m afraid it doesn’t suit me. I...don’t feel like myself.”
Zhi Lan supposed Shao Qing was used to doing as he pleased and traveling from one place to the next. He must have missed his freedom. But surely he didn’t prefer the life of a thief over what he had now.
Shao Qing’s throat bobbed. “What I mean to say is, there are rules and expectations here I’m not used to. You’re the only one from... before that I can meet.”
“I see,” Zhi Lan said. Perhaps he wanted a respectable excuse to travel and see his fellow thieves. She folded her hands and thought it over. The arrangement would not be an unpleasant one. “I suppose you could come with me. It would be beneficial.”
Shao Qing looked up hesitantly. “Beneficial?”
“You’re wealthy now. And you’re willing to support my painting,” she conceded. “It’s a practical decision.”
He frowned, looking almost offended. “I suppose it is.”
She raised a teasing eyebrow. “You know, a thief once told me the practical way for a woman to get what she wants is to marry into wealth.”
Shao Qing leaned back into the tree trunk, gazing at her. His face was serious when he said, “I won’t be opposed to marriage.”
Zhi Lan felt hot. The conversation had veered further than she had expected. “I-I didn’t mean to suggest that. Don’t tease me.”
He covered her hand with his, lacing their fingers together in an intimate gesture. Zhi Lan stopped breathing.
“One of the interesting things about having a soul,” Shao Qing said softly, “is that it tells me exactly what it wants. And mine wants yours. Alarmingly.”
Zhi Lan looked up at him, speechless. Had he been putting on romantic airs all this time? Her heart pounded at the thought. A memory resurfaced. The dragon had first come to her after being released from its scroll. She originally thought that it was fickle and playful, but this ?
As much as she and Shao Qing had been through, they’d known each other for less than a week. That version of him no longer existed. Did he truly want her now, or were his feelings skewed by the sudden return of his soul? Perhaps he still wasn’t thinking straight.
Zhi Lan began to withdraw her hand. “Are you certain?”
Shao Qing recaptured it. “Souls cannot lie.”
She swallowed. It was ridiculously flattering and her heart was beating fast from pure, nonsensical joy. Still, she didn’t want Shao Qing to choose her if he didn’t truly mean it. She wouldn’t want to impose on him, and she respected herself too much to allow herself to be deluded.
“I confess I’m not sure who you are anymore,” Zhi Lan finally said.
The young man before her was nothing like the thief she had known. She wasn’t sure how to consolidate the two.
“Stay and I can show you.” Shao Qing leaned close. Zhi Lan’s breath caught when she saw the depth of feeling in his eyes. Carefully, he lifted her chin. She knew what was to come next.
His lips met hers. She leaned into him, seemingly on instinct, unable to hold back a sigh when he deepened the kiss. It was more restrained than their first, but she felt this more acutely. When Shao Qing withdrew, his eyes were full of promises that made Zhi Lan blush.
She raised a hand to her mouth. She would let him kiss the rouge off her lips. Because curse him, she had painted it on for his sake.
“Scoundrel,” Zhi Lan said without heat.
Shao Qing smiled.
He was certainly in better spirits now. Zhi Lan realized she wanted to know this lighter version of him. Even if the version she’d known had been tortured, contrary, and soulless, Zhi Lan knew that at his core, Shao Qing was truthful and honorable. He had stuck by her when he didn’t have to. He was capable of compassion, with and without his soul.
When Zhi Lan had stepped through the gates, she expected this to be their last meeting. After this confession, however, she no longer had the heart to leave him—perhaps she never did.
“Who has ever heard of a magistrate’s grandson marrying a farmer’s daughter? I’ll be your concubine at best and I’d rather avoid that title,” Zhi Lan finally said. It was her one last objection, though a weak one at that. He already had her.
“I don’t think my father objects. And...I prefer you as my wife.”
Zhi Lan’s heart stuttered. She had vowed once to never marry a man for money’s sake, and yet here was a man with money asking to marry her, and she was not unwilling to be with him.
Had her principles changed? No. Only her circumstances.
A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “I won’t tell you no. But I would like to go home and paint first.”
“Whatever you wish for, wife.”
Zhi Lan pushed his shoulder. “Don’t be so forward.” But she couldn’t help but plant another kiss on his lips.