My Fair Concubine (18 page)

Did she need any more proof than his broken body to show that he wasn’t able to provide for her? He was about to give her that proof.

By the time she returned, the pain had receded to a dull throb, but it was still there, clinging and prodding at his muscles. The edge of it dulled enough for him to unclench his fists. He hoped the drug would leave his mind clear enough to do what needed to be done.

Yan Ling set the book and box of paper next to him and lowered herself at the edge of the bed beside his knees. He hated that he had to do this lying down, like an invalid.

‘Open the ledger,’ he said. ‘Inside is the list of debts our family has incurred over the past years.’

‘You mean your father?’

‘Our family,’ he insisted. ‘There’s also—’ He took a breath. If he spoke slowly and tonelessly, he could go longer. ‘There’s also a list of earnings from different sales.’

‘The cranes,’ she said, realising. ‘And the vases and ivory carvings.’

He nodded. ‘And some of our lands as well. I’ve been able to satisfy most of the creditors, but Zōu didn’t just want the money. I collected enough to cover my father’s debt to him. It nearly emptied all we had.’

Yan Ling scanned the ledger, her lips moving as she added the columns. She might not be able to read all the notations, but she would understand the figures.

‘Two million? Oh, Fei Long—’

‘I never got to Zōu,’ he said, cutting off her reply. Her pity would destroy him. ‘They stopped me in the streets and stole the money. I’m certain it was his men.’

‘You have to go to the head of the ward, then.’

‘The head of the North Hamlet is in the pocket of the slum lords.’

She closed the book, her mouth set in anger. ‘Then go higher. What about Minister Cao?’

‘I can’t go to Cao. Don’t you see? It would ruin us.’ He struggled to sit up, but Yan Ling moved to him, pressing firmly against his shoulders to remind him not to move.

‘Stop, Fei Long. You’re getting too excited.’

She was so close. Her gently curved mouth was right above him, out of reach.

‘Minister Cao has staked his reputation to help us already,’ he said, resigned. ‘I can’t go to Cao and insult him with this mess.’

‘Then what will you do?’ She frowned, not understanding, but with no choice but to accept.

‘There is only one thing left.’ He slumped back as all the energy drained from him. ‘I will have to sell the house.’

‘No,’ she gasped.

It was the same cold surrender he’d felt when he’d let Pearl go. He had to cut away a part of himself to do it. He tried to seal off the wound as quickly as possible. There was no drug for this sort of pain.

‘Moneylenders like Zōu seek out men that they can exploit. They don’t want just money, they want to enslave and control their prey. Then they can bleed them for ever. I’ve seen this happen before during my days as a student.’

Many of the favoured sons of wealthy families fell into the cycle of banquets and drinking and women. They bolstered their reputations through the parties they hosted. Sometimes they met with powerful friends, but many met with ruin, borrowing unspeakable amounts of cash that their families were required to pay. Fei Long could have easily fallen into the same trap.

He supposed his father found both alliances and temptation. This was why Zōu was delighted to hold his debt.

‘I won’t allow Zōu to bleed us dry. Better to make a decision now—while I can still have some control.’ He ground his teeth together and a bitter taste filled his mouth. ‘I’ll work to find the servants placements in other households. They’re loyal, good people. And you—by the end of the summer, you’ll be headed to Khitan.’

Yan Ling looked away while he spoke. He followed the line of her neck and throat with his eyes, the same view she’d so often tempted him with, sweeping her hair back while she was writing. Of all the losses, he would regret losing Yan Ling the most. It was his one, selfish allowance.

‘I’ll most likely keep Old Man Liang with me, wherever we end up. He’s always served my father well, but he’s old and set in his ways. I need you to make sure he carries out my orders to sell the house. Dao is forceful enough, but she might get sentimental.’

Her gaze swung back to him. ‘You insult me, Fei Long.’

A low fire burned in her eyes. She rose from the bed, setting aside the book. Her spine stiffened with anger.

‘You don’t think I have any sentiment for this house? I haven’t been here long, but I have no other home. This has been the happiest time of my life.’

She turned on him, fierce and beautiful. In that moment, he would have never believed the little mouse of a tea girl ever existed.

‘I apologise,’ he said quietly. ‘I didn’t know.’

‘You and Pearl were born here. All your memories of your mother and father. I’ve never had these things, yet even I know how important they are.’

She swept away the papers and tucked them out of view.

‘You are in no condition to make such decisions right now.’ She sniffled, but tried to hide it by grabbing the bowl from the tray. She sat beside him and thrust a spoonful of cold soup to his lips without kindness. ‘Get well first before giving such rash orders.’

He tilted his head to take the soup and swallowed obediently, barely tasting it. ‘Yan Ling,’ he began, as she turned to dip the spoon.

‘Stop talking.’ She fed him again before swiping the back of her hand harshly over her eyes. ‘Really, Fei Long. Stop talking.’

Chapter Seventeen

F
ei Long spent a week in bed, tended to by servants who took care of feeding and bathing him. Yan Ling stopped by to check on him at least once a day, but refrained from staying long enough to get angry with him. He obliged her by no longer talking about selling the house.

She was right. To give Zōu their family home would be surrender. He was not ready to bow down to a lowly crime boss. The new plan he was forming, however, would make Yan Ling even angrier.

* * *

After the first week, he was allowed to sit up, as long as he didn’t move much. The Foreign Ministry had sent along writings about Khitan. Yan Ling would sit and listen while he read them to her. It seemed their daily lessons had been resurrected in this form.

‘Do you want to continue?’ he asked during one of her visits.

She was sitting near his feet with her back resting against the wall of the alcove. The position was intimate, scandalously so, but he liked having her there too much to protest. She was such a welcome sight after staring at the walls for hours on end. His convalescence had worn tiny holes in the barriers between them where light could peek through, but the barriers were still there.

He looked up after describing several Khitan customs to see Yan Ling with her feet pulled up on the bed.

She rocked back and forth absently, almost child-like. ‘I was just thinking. Please continue.’

‘Khitan women dress in jackets and skirts with leggings beneath to allow them to ride,’ he read from a report written by the imperial envoys to Khitan. ‘Many are trained in horse riding as well as how to use the bow and arrow.’

‘Maybe I should learn how to ride a horse.’

He set down the report. ‘There isn’t enough time.’

‘You’re right.’ She nodded, her expression veiled with sadness. ‘I suppose there will be plenty of time to learn once I arrive there. I’ll have to learn everything again: the language, how to stand and sit.’

As if all of their lessons were for nothing after all. ‘You’ll have an escort with an interpreter and some of the chieftains have learned our language.’

‘It won’t be so bad then at all,’ she murmured.

Fei Long wasn’t convinced and it was obvious that Yan Ling wasn’t either. The sharp pain in his chest had nothing to do with his injuries. The ache came deep from within his soul. When he asked her if she wanted to continue, it wasn’t only about the reading. He’d always assumed she wanted to go to Khitan, but he’d been blind to anything but his own purpose.

He could go with her.

The thought came as sudden as a windstorm.
Heqin
brides travelled along with an extensive escort. He could offer his services to the Emperor. His military position as squad commander had likely been given to another by now, though not yet officially terminated.

It was impossible, of course. They would have to constantly pose as brother and sister and it was harder for two people to keep up a ruse than one. More importantly, Fei Long didn’t know if he could trust himself not to abduct her once they cleared the boundaries of the empire. He’d wear a mask and sweep her onto his horse to ride fiercely across the grassland steppes. The fantasy was not unsatisfying.

‘Fei Long?’

‘Hmm?’

‘Let’s talk about something besides Khitan.’ She had tucked her knees close to her chest, suddenly appearing very small.

‘Of course. Anything you wish,’ he replied.

For a moment, they had nothing. He was struggling to find a new topic of conversation when Yan Ling spoke.

‘Why didn’t you take the civil exams?’ she asked. ‘Didn’t the elder Lord Chang wish for you to carry on the family tradition?’

‘Well, there were other—’ He tried again. ‘It would have been an honour to…’

Yan Ling was watching him so expectantly. No one had really questioned him about his choice. Certainly there were those who wondered why he would pass up the potential for a coveted position within the Six Ministries to pursue a military career in obscurity outside the capital. His father had had no objections. He had jovially accepted his son’s path, just as he’d accepted everything that came his way, for better or worse.

‘I might have gone on to take the civil exams, but I didn’t qualify.’

‘Oh, Fei Long. Do you always have to be so humble?’ she chided.

‘No, I didn’t qualify.’ He leaned back against the alcove, trying to find a more comfortable position. ‘To be an imperial candidate, you must pass the qualifying exams. Do you know scholars from the provinces would study for nearly all their lives to be able to qualify and come to Changan?’

‘But you were a candidate for a year. You told me so.’

She stretched out on the bed so her slippered foot rested just beside his knee. They weren’t even touching, but it stirred him mercilessly.

‘We were wealthy,’ he explained. ‘We lived in the capital. My family name was well-known and I was a favoured son with well-paid tutors and impeccable calligraphy.’

Yan Ling giggled and he wasn’t sure what he’d said to elicit it, but he was glad he had.

‘Like any student of means, I studied the classics during the day and attended drinking parties in the entertainment district at night. A man could make a name for himself hosting parties alone. Everyone would come: scholars, poets, courtesans, entertainers.’

‘Entertainers like the
magnificent
Li Bai Shen?’ she teased.

He narrowed a glance at her, but it was in good humour. ‘Indeed. This was when we began our illustrious association. I stayed out all night before taking the qualifying exams, which were a mere formality, I thought. Of course I was given passing marks and became a candidate for the imperial exams.’

‘But…’

‘But I began noticing things. Students who were much more astute, much more industrious than I, were struggling. Students who spoke with provincial accents and had names that were unknown. They never frequented the drinking houses and pleasure quarters. I wasn’t so careless in my youth that I didn’t start to wonder. Perhaps I merely qualified because of who my father was.’

‘Your family legacy isn’t something to be ashamed of,’ Yan Ling protested.

‘It wasn’t shame.’ He would never deny his family. ‘I just…wondered.’

At some point, Fei Long considered that he had more in common with Li Bai Shen and his troupe of actors than the scholars who were supposed to be his peers. He was there among the imperial candidates because he looked the part and played the role so well.

‘I wasn’t entirely without merit,’ he assured. ‘I had studied the classics and I possessed a few other skills. I was competent on horseback. I could hit a target with a bow and arrow.’

Yan Ling’s smile warmed him. ‘You wanted to find your own path.’

Something about that sounded so dissident. It hinted disturbingly of rebellion.

‘Sometimes a natural path simply reveals itself,’ Fei Long countered.

Spending time with Yan Ling always relaxed him. He could speak freely without the lure of wine or music. He needed these hours with her. Not only to pass the time, but to centre himself. Having her close filled him with a purpose and lightened the weight pressing on his chest. In these small moments of peace, he could almost see another way. His own path, but it wouldn’t quite reveal itself no matter how hard he searched.

* * *

Yan Ling was working on her embroidery beneath the shade of the patio. Dao sat beside her with a basket of the household mending. The day was too hot to stay indoors, but too glaring to sit outside beneath the sun.

A raised voice came from within the house which set them running.

‘My ladies, quickly!’ Old Man Liang called from the hallway.

At first Yan Ling feared that something had happened to Fei Long, but she went to his chamber to find him out of bed and dressed in a dark robe.

‘My lord, you shouldn’t be up.’

He raised a hand to quiet her. Moving with great care and deliberation, he straightened his robe and tied back his hair.

‘I’m going to see Zōu,’ he said.

‘Are you mad? He’ll kill you this time.’

‘He won’t.’ Fei Long shook his head too calmly. ‘No one left to pay if I’m dead. The only way to deal with a man like Zōu is directly.’

Fei Long had been recovering gradually over the last weeks and was finally able to speak and breathe without effort, but she knew he wasn’t ready for this.

‘Why now?’ she demanded.

‘Zōu summoned me. His letter came this morning.’

While his back was turned, Yan Ling waved frantically to Dao who stood near the doorway. She hoped the servant girl would interpret the sign to mean ‘do something useful to prevent him from leaving’. Either way, Dao nodded and darted away.

‘What was that?’ Fei Long regarded her suspiciously.

‘Oh, nothing. It’s very hot in here.’ She fanned herself. ‘If Zōu sent for you, haven’t you considered it must be a trap?’

‘The whole setup is already a trap. He doesn’t need another one.’ He sat on the bed to pull on his shoes. ‘Do you know he dared to remind me that my payment was late? Zōu said he would be generous enough to allow some extra time—for additional interest. That man is without shame.’

Her heart ached as she watched Fei Long’s laboured movements. She considered helping him, but that would be counter to her argument.

‘What’s your plan, then?’ she asked.

‘I’ve been thinking of this for a while. I’ll go to him directly and honestly. I will impress upon him that I will not continue these payments and we’ll negotiate an honourable deal.’

‘That’s it?’

He scowled at her doubtful tone. ‘I can be an effective negotiator.’

Despite his stubbornness, it was so good to see him out of bed and moving about. She just wished it wasn’t for the purpose of going out and getting his bones broken again. As Fei Long headed for his sword, she dashed to the wall ahead of him and snatched it off the shelf.

‘Yan—’ he warned.

‘Wait until you’re better,’ she implored.

His dark eyebrows slashed ominously downwards. ‘There are limits to how much impertinence I’ll tolerate.’

‘What use is a sword for you? You’re slower than I am.’

He stalked toward her. ‘Is that a challenge?’

She was caught in a dilemma. Losing face, private or public, was critical to Fei Long. Now that she had challenged him, he wouldn’t back down. If she ran and he chased her, she might cause him to re-injure himself. If she didn’t do anything, he was going to go ahead with his crazy plan.

At the last moment, she decided to duck towards the door, but Fei Long swept in to intercept her. He caged her easily, his arm braced against the wall, nearly pinning her with his body. Her pulse quickened.

‘See?’ he said softly. His face angled close to hers. ‘All better.’

The bruises had started to fade. Fei Long seemed himself once again: strong, formidable, hard-headed. Yan Ling wanted to believe he was recovered, but she caught the tension along his jaw. Sweat collected on his brow.

She reached out to him. ‘You’re in pain.’

‘It will pass.’ He spoke quietly, but with a tone of impenetrable command. ‘I know how this is done, Yan. The longer we wait, the more Zōu will believe he’s bested me. His tyranny will build and build, just as it did with my father.’

Fei Long had been fighting his convalescence for weeks. She knew that the unfinished business with Zōu had plagued him the entire time, yet she kept thinking of him lying crumpled in that forsaken alleyway.

‘Huibin and the stable boy are coming with me,’ he assured her.

She would prefer an entire patrol of city guards, but Fei Long insisted this was a private matter.

‘At least take some of your medicine,’ she urged.

His lips pressed tight as he nodded. ‘That might be a good idea.’

* * *

Yan Ling was still clutching his sword as she went to the kitchen to brew the herbal mixture, as if she feared that he would escape on the sly if she relinquished it. She returned with an entire bowl of the vile tea and stood by while he drained every drop. They exchanged sword for empty bowl.

‘Be careful,’ she ordered.

If anything happened to him, he was certain she would charge into Zōu’s den herself. She followed him to the front gate where the two attendants were waiting. Out front, Fei Long encountered another guardian.

‘I was in the area,’ Bai Shen said casually. ‘Buying radishes at the East Market.’

‘Radishes?’

He slung his sword over his shoulder. ‘I love radishes.’

Fei Long would remember never to underestimate the resourcefulness of women. ‘Why were you skulking outside?’

‘Well, I recall that the next time I set foot inside that house someone was going to kill me.’ Bai Shen fell into step beside him. ‘I might have risked it since you’re still an invalid, but I decided to spare you losing two fights in one month.’

‘At least get a real sword.’

The sword in Bai Shen’s hands was ornamented with glass jewels. The blade was meant to dramatically catch the light while on stage rather than do any real damage.

‘I intend to run long before it comes to any fighting.’ Bai Shen sheathed his prop sword into the scabbard at his belt.

Not that any of the others were equipped for a fight either. The stable boy had a knife in his belt that he used for cutting rope and Huibin’s size alone posed as a decent warning, but they were there for appearances only. In the words of Sun Tzu, excellence consisted of breaking the enemy’s resistance without fighting.

The four of them continued on towards the North Hamlet and beyond to the seedy border of the gambling dens. There seemed to be a few more people wandering the streets that day. Fei Long recognised the pedlar hauling the basket to the corner as a member of Bai Shen’s troupe.

‘I asked a few of the fellows to come around,’ Bai Shen said. Then, after a pause, ‘What were you thinking going alone into that wolf’s den? Have you offended so many people that you think you have no friends left?’

‘This is my problem.’

Bai Shen snorted. ‘That head of yours, Chang Fei Long, it’s hard as rock. I don’t understand what goes through it.’