Page 7

S hao Qing had avoided taking the direct path to Yao’s house for years. But Miss Nong had been out of breath and pink in the face just from climbing over a few crates. He figured she would not appreciate his usual wayward route, so he had obliged her.

He brought his hand to his brow, shielding his eyes from the sun as the paved street turned into a dirt road. Reminiscing produced a sour discomfort in his stomach. Those street urchins had reminded him too much of himself, and he hadn’t seen the herbalist shop in years. The proprietor, Master Cai, had been the first businessman to offer Shao Qing a job and the first to treat him with kindness. Shao Qing wondered if he still worked there.

His discomfort faded into his usual passivity the closer they came to their destination. A glance behind his shoulder showed Miss Nong several paces behind, half walking and half trotting to catch up with him.

At the end of the dirt path sat Yao’s house. It was a modest cottage, the roof thatched with fresh straw, surrounded by trees and sparse stalks of bamboo. A fence enclosed a garden and a few chickens, which squawked when Shao Qing approached. Beside them was the sturdy figure of Yao’s wife. An Qin had a basket tucked under one tanned arm, her sleeves hiked to her elbows as she scattered handfuls of chicken feed.

“Shao Qing? We weren’t expecting you today,” An Qin called out.

He bowed. “I’m here to see Yao.”

Miss Nong finally caught up to him, panting. She tossed her hair behind her shoulder. There were wisps coming out from her pins and sticking to her temples.

“My, who’s this?” An Qin said, raising her brows. “A lady friend of yours?”

“An acquaintance,” Miss Nong bit out. The breach of politeness was only temporary. She quickly clasped her hands and bowed. “I’m Nong Zhi Lan, madam.”

An Qin pushed open the fence, a smile spreading over her face. “A pleasure, Miss Nong.”

“Oh, I’m no treasured miss. Please call me Zhi Lan.”

Shao Qing wondered if that also applied to him. Miss Nong was overly formal. Her given name suited her more. He found himself absently studying the curve of her neck. It did have the elegant arch of an orchid plant.

“Zhi Lan, then. I’m An Qin.”

“You have a lovely home, madam,” Zhi Lan said, turning her gaze to the cottage roof. “It’s crowned in bamboo.”

A dimple appeared on An Qin’s face. “You’re a sweet one. I reckon you’re here to see Yao too? I hope he didn’t rob you blind or anything of the sort.”

“Is Yao home?” Shao Qing cut in.

An Qin waved her hand. “He is, but not fit for guests. He’s terribly hungover.”

Zhi Lan threw a desperate glance his way.

“We’d like to see him now,” Shao Qing said.

An Qin raised a brow. “I suppose the children are already bothering him anyway. Come with me.” She ducked inside the cottage through a low wooden door frame.

Shao Qing began to follow, but Zhi Lan tugged his sleeve. “Are you sure this is the right place?” she whispered. “This seems awfully...domestic.”

She had taken to walking close behind him, as if she expected danger to spring out at any moment and he were her shield. Shao Qing extricated his sleeve. “This is the place. There’s no need to be afraid.”

Zhi Lan straightened her hunched shoulders and raised her chin. “Who said I was afraid?”

“Your body. Stop cowering.”

She harrumphed and pushed past him. Getting a reaction out of her was oddly satisfying, like throwing a stone into a still pond.

Inside, Yao’s two children ran to and fro, squealing boisterously. They were about four or five, too young to pay the newcomers any mind, and continued to wreak havoc around the wooden table behind which Yao himself sat with his fingers pressed to his temples.

“Elder Brother Yao,” Shao Qing said to announce himself.

Yao squinted up at him. “Brother Qing? What are you doing here?” He scowled. “Don’t tell me someone got caught last night.”

“Not that I know of.”

“I’m turning you in myself if any of us gets implicated.”

Shao Qing shrugged. “I’m here about the painting.”

“If it’s about the profits, everyone gets an equal cut. Just because you barreled in recklessly doesn’t mean—” Yao stopped abruptly when he caught sight of Zhi Lan. His eyebrows shot to his hairline. “What’s this? Have you found yourself a woman?”

An Qin slid into the seat beside him. “That’s what I said! Who knew Shao Qing had it in him to attract such a pretty girl?”

Zhi Lan shot Shao Qing an accusing glare when he didn’t correct them. She turned to Yao and executed another bow. “I’m Nong Zhi Lan, sir. You must be Shao Qing’s superior.”

Yao barked an explosive laugh. “She’s wearing white! Is she mourning? Or is she a scholar?”

“She’s a painter’s apprentice,” Shao Qing said.

“Indeed?” Yao said. “What does she want from you?”

“She’s right here,” Zhi Lan said irritably, seeming to have gotten over her initial fright.

“Don’t mind the stupid men,” An Qin said in a consoling tone. “Have you eaten yet?”

An answering growl came from Zhi Lan’s stomach.

An Qin ushered the children away and made Shao Qing and Zhi Lan sit with Yao at the table. In five minutes she set a steaming bowl of noodle soup before each of them.

Shao Qing picked up his chopsticks and began to eat. He never felt particularly hungry, but he knew his body needed the fuel.

Zhi Lan looked hesitantly into her bowl.

“We’re not going to poison you, if that’s what you’re afraid of,” An Qin said.

“Oh no! I didn’t mean...it looks delicious.” Zhi Lan dipped her spoon into the broth and gingerly took a sip.

Yao leaned back into his chair, his gaze narrowed on her. “So, what is it you want from me, young miss?”

Zhi Lan shot Shao Qing a hesitant look. He nodded at her. It was her story to tell, and Shao Qing certainly didn’t feel like speaking for her on top of everything else.

“Well...I’m not sure if you know this, sir, but my master and I are under the patronage of Magistrate Bu.”

“You work for the magistrate?”

Zhi Lan squirmed under Yao’s gaze. “Well, n-not really. The thing is, his lordship is upset about the painting that you—er, that was stolen yesterday. He wanted it for his collection. The disappearance is...affecting us negatively. I was wondering if...if I could possibly get it back?”

Yao stared for a moment before exploding into another hearty laugh. Shao Qing was impressed he wasn’t giving himself a headache.

“This girl is either extremely bold or extremely naive. And naive isn’t your type, is it, Brother Qing?” Yao nudged Shao Qing’s shoulder.

“Please stop speaking of me as if I’m not in the room,” Zhi Lan said with a frown. “And for the record, I am not romantically involved with him.”

Yao grinned at this. It seemed he decided she wasn’t a threat after all.

“Really, Yao, stop tormenting the girl.” An Qin seated herself beside Zhi Lan. “What’s this about? Was it that painting you sent off last night?”

Zhi Lan set down her spoon. “Sent off?”

“There were multiple I sent off last night,” Yao said with a wave of his hand. “Not sure which one you’re talking about, young miss.”

A pink flush colored Zhi Lan’s cheeks when she turned to Shao Qing. “Shao Qing, tell him!”

He took a sip of soup. “The one with the mountain and all the plants.”

Yao tsked. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that.”

Zhi Lan looked ready to explode.

“Perhaps you could sketch it for us?” Yao suggested.

“I don’t think there’s time,” she said curtly.

Yao shrugged a shoulder. “Can’t help you if I don’t know what painting you’re talking about.”

Zhi Lan inhaled slowly, seeming to steel herself. “Paper and brush, if you please.”

An Qin brought out a sheet of paper, an old inkstone and inkstick, and a frayed brush that had seen better days. Zhi Lan wrinkled her nose delicately as she picked up the inkstick, worn to little more than a nub, and began grinding it into the inkstone with a few drops of water.

Her motions were elegant, from the way she held her sleeve to the way she poised the brush over the paper, as if she were a well-bred lady instead of a farm girl. She sketched in confident strokes. First, the outline of the silk scroll on which the painting was mounted, then the painting itself—a composition of mountains and waterfalls and flora in the foreground.

Shao Qing found her movements fascinating, as well as the serene concentration on her face as she executed them. He didn’t realize he was staring until Yao kicked him under the table and waggled his eyebrows. Shao Qing returned his attention to his noodles.

“Here,” Zhi Lan said, setting down her brush and turning the paper to Yao. “It’s only an approximation of my master’s but you recognize it, I hope?”

Yao took the sketch. “Ah, yes! The fresh-as-an-orange-peel painting.”

Zhi Lan furrowed her brows. “It’s a waterfall, not an orange peel.”

“No, it is fresh, like an orange peel,” Yao said. “This is very good too.”

“Oh. Um. Thank you,” Zhi Lan said. “So...where is the original?”

“I sold it already,” Yao said. “To Magistrate Li in the next city.”

Zhi Lan wrung her hands together. “You sold it to a magistrate? If I explain my situation to him, will he give it back?”

An Qin slapped her knee. “Oh, that is rich! He would never relinquish it if he knew it’s Magistrate Bu’s.”

“Why not?” Zhi Lan asked.

“Ah, this you don’t know,” An Qin said. “Magistrate Bu and Magistrate Li have a public feud, you see. The two magistrates were academic rivals back in their scholar days, always attempting to outdo each other.”

“I don’t see how this pertains to the issue.”

An Qin leaned forward eagerly, as if she had been waiting for ages to relay this piece of gossip to new ears. Shao Qing himself had heard the story too many times to count. “The current Lady Bu is Magistrate Li’s eldest daughter.”

Zhi Lan nodded, still looking confused.

“She is his favorite child. Magistrate Li originally wanted a more advantageous marriage for her, but he was bound by a promise his father made to betroth Lady Bu to Magistrate Bu. The late Master Li liked Magistrate Bu. But the current Magistrate Li did everything he could to subvert the marriage. It was all for naught, however, and only worsened their rivalry.”

Zhi Lan blinked. “I see.”

An Qin tsked. “It was said after the marriage had taken place, Lady Bu sent a letter home saying how she hated living in Zhu City, and how Magistrate Bu wasn’t kind to her. But the letter ended up in the hands of a gossipmonger and soon everyone in both cities knew. Magistrate Bu was incensed when word got back to him—quite shameful to have one’s dirty laundry aired out. So he made it a point to make his manor identical to Magistrate Li’s, if only to put on a show that he dotes on his wife. He had all the carpenters in the city occupied for months. He heard Magistrate Li was a great admirer of art, so Magistrate Bu began his collection too.”

“I was under the impression Magistrate Bu began his art collection in his student days,” Zhi Lan said, looking surprised.

“Pah. That’s only what he claims. He acquired his taste for art only to outdo Magistrate Li.”

“But that’s so childish!” Zhi Lan exclaimed. She seemed drawn into the story now, her eyes widening ever so slightly.

“Exactly!” An Qin crowed. “There’s nothing better than grown men engaging in petty disagreements. It is food for the soul, I tell you.”

Zhi Lan laughed, the sound bright, like a silver bell.

“There is, however, a rumor,” An Qin said, dropping her voice to a whisper. “They say Magistrate Bu crossed the line.”

Zhi Lan leaned forward. “How so?”

“Twenty years ago Magistrate Li’s eldest son had produced a child. His first grandchild! But on the night of its birth, the baby disappeared.”

Zhi Lan gasped. “You don’t mean to say Magistrate Bu kidnapped Magistrate Li’s grandchild!”

“If it’s true, it’s indeed terrible,” An Qin said solemnly. “But Magistrate Li’s family never confirmed or denied. It’s a rather embarrassing thing, for such crimes to fall upon a magistrate’s family and go unsolved. Perhaps it is only a wild rumor.”

Zhi Lan frowned, her lower lip sticking out in a slight pout. Yao nudged Shao Qing’s arm. “Stare any longer and you’ll wear a hole through her head,” he said in a low voice. Then in a louder voice before Shao Qing could respond, he said, “So you see, young miss, Magistrate Li will never willingly give up an item he procured from Magistrate Bu.”

Zhi Lan furrowed her brow. “But...why would a magistrate want stolen goods?”

“Injustice runs rampant even in those who enforce justice, young miss,” Yao said. “I myself supply Magistrate Li’s stolen art. He’s a willing buyer. But if you want to steal it back, you’re welcome to do so.”

“Who said anything about stealing?” she asked in a bewildered tone. “The painting belongs to my master. I only want it back. You can help us, can’t you, sir?”

“Stealing is the only way you’re going to get it back,” Yao said firmly. “I certainly won’t offend my wealthiest client by retracting a sale.”

Zhi Lan bit her lip, her eyes darting from Yao to Shao Qing to the sketch on the table.

Shao Qing was convinced she was going to burst into tears. But to his surprise, Zhi Lan asked, “Where does Magistrate Li live?”

A slow smile spread across Yao’s face. An Qin threw up her hands.

“Oh, look at you, corrupting an innocent girl,” she said. “I can hardly sit back and watch.”

“You should’ve thought of that before we married, my treasure,” Yao said.

An Qin threw up her hands again. “I’ll be in the kitchen!” She cleared off the bowls on the table and went past a rough-spun curtain to the adjoining room.

Yao turned back to Zhi Lan. “I will help, young miss.”

Shao Qing raised an eyebrow. “You’ll help?”

“I’d like to see you get out of this scrape. I’ll be waiting for a good story by the end of it,” Yao whispered to him. “If you survive.”

Shao Qing figured the thief lord must be in one of his playful moods. He was always in better spirits sober than drunk.

Then, Yao turned to Zhi Lan. “Magistrate Li is in Yun City. You’ll have to head east to the intercity gates. It’s unlikely you’ll make it before curfew today. The gates close at dusk. Do you have your papers?”

Zhi Lan made a noise. “I left them behind.”

“Not a problem. A thief should never cross city gates with genuine papers. We’ll forge them,” Yao said.

She looked slightly ill at this.

“Once you make it to Yun City, you’ll be able to find your way to Magistrate Li’s manor easily enough. The homes of the wealthy are not difficult to spot and every civilian knows where the magistrate is located. As for the stealing part...well, let Shao Qing handle that. He finds sadistic joy in last-minute heists.”

Yao then drew up a crude layout of Magistrate Li’s manor. It was similar to many of the aristocratic courtyard houses, with one main wing, an east and west wing, and the front gates.

“There’s a pond behind the main wing that connects to a river. You can make your escape that way, if things become dire.”

Shao Qing had never been on a heist that took him to Yun City, even though it was right next door. According to Yao, Magistrate Li ran a tighter ship than Magistrate Bu did. Yun City’s guards were always suspicious and Shao Qing’s light eyes made him too recognizable. But the prospect of going somewhere new was enticing. And he wanted to see Zhi Lan squirm at the idea of becoming a thief, if only to entertain himself.

“Give me an hour to forge your papers,” Yao said. “An Qin will prepare some food for the road.”

Zhi Lan stood and bowed. “Thank you for your help. I...wasn’t expecting generosity when I came here,” she admitted.

Yao waved his hand. “Well, a friend of Shao Qing is a friend of mine. He did save my life. The least I can do is assist him from time to time.”

A pretty lie for Zhi Lan. Shao Qing was sure the only reason Yao was doing this was because he was starved of entertainment, though he was surprised by the amount of effort the thief lord was willing to put in to attain it.

Shao Qing saw Zhi Lan shoot him a bewildered look at his periphery. “You saved his life?”

“If that’s what you want to call it,” he said.

Shao Qing had first come across Yao three years ago, lying unconscious in a muddy ditch. He had dragged him up to see if the older man had anything worth stealing in his pockets, but Yao had woken up and punched him in the face.

“So you see, if he hadn’t pulled me out to steal from me, I would’ve been eaten by a leash of foxes. The animals were running rampant that time of year. Quite feral. My body would’ve been unrecognizable,” Yao said.

“Ah. How...fortunate,” Zhi Lan said faintly.

Although Shao Qing hadn’t meant to do it, saving Yao’s life turned out to be beneficial. He had been stealing on his own before then, but only petty street thefts for mere survival—nothing on a grand scale.

Once he joined Yao’s gang, Shao Qing never went a day without a roof over his head and food in his belly. They stole silk scrolls and prized vases and bronze sculptures from manors of the wealthy. The thrill of each heist stole the air from his lungs and brought vibrant color to the corners of his vision.

But lately, this lifestyle had grown too routine, the excitement long since dulled.

Shao Qing wondered if this excursion could rekindle that excitement.