My Fair Concubine (19 page)

Fei Long once thought to abandon his old comrades when he had left his reckless, spendthrift days behind him, but he hadn’t considered the virtues of friendship and loyalty.

‘I owe you a debt,’ he admitted soberly.

‘Forget about debt and duty for a moment, fool. There are more important things in life.’ For once, Bai Shen cast aside his usual humour and bravado.

‘The sun rises in the west today. Li Bai Shen is lecturing me,’ Fei Long said.

‘Snow falls in the summer. Chang Fei Long is making a joke.’

They were nearly at Zōu’s mansion.

‘I thought for sure you would have woken up by now,’ Bai Shen said.

‘What are you saying?’

‘You know what I mean. You know
who
I mean. Look at the two of you circling like lovesick youngsters. It’s not hard to decide what to do, Fei Long. It’s not hard at all.’

Despite his irreverence, Bai Shen had shown himself to be a true friend. It was the only reason Fei Long allowed such a personal line of questioning.

‘You only see what’s on the surface,’ Fei Long warned.

‘I know what I see.’

The guards at the gate recognised him and before long they found themselves standing before the Bull in his sitting room.

Zōu tapped his thick fingers together and regarded the bruises still visible on Fei Long’s face. ‘Why, Lord Chang. Have you gotten into some sort of unfortunate accident?’

Anger was a sign of weakness. Fei Long kept his under control. ‘Unfortunate indeed.’

‘I knew something must have happened when I didn’t receive your payment. From what I’ve heard, Lord Chang’s son is nothing if not forthright and honest. A man among men.’

So the crime lord was choosing to draw out the predicament for his enjoyment. Fei Long knew then that he hadn’t merely been robbed so that Zōu could keep him under his thumb. Zōu had done it because Fei Long had dared to stand up to him.

‘You’ve got about all the money you’re going to drain from the Chang family,’ he said plainly.

‘Ahh…then how will you repay your debt, being such a straightforward and honest man?’ Zōu surmised.

‘You must have something in mind.’

The crime lord’s narrowed gaze sparked with greed. ‘I like your style, Chang Fei Long, though it could use some refinement. Coming here like this so stubbornly after being beaten nearly to death takes spirit.’

Complimentary and taunting at the same time. Fei Long refused to respond. Instead he waited for Zōu’s proposal impassively.

‘I need someone relentless like you,’ Zōu continued with glee. ‘Someone to collect on a few debts from borrowers who are not as straight and honest. I’ll give you a percentage of each payment you extract until your debt is gone.’

‘No.’

Zōu raised his eyebrows. ‘You really have no negotiation ability. No subtlety at all.’

‘If I’m to dishonour myself as your underling, I might as well lose face completely. I’d rather fall to my knees and beg assistance from those powerful friends of my father’s you mentioned.’

‘Ah…corner a dog in a dead-end alley and he’ll turn and bite.’ The crime lord eyed him for a long time, stroking his thick beard thoughtfully. ‘I have another thought. How’s your arm?’

‘My arm is fine.’ It wasn’t his arm that bothered Fei Long as much as the pain in his ribs when he moved too quickly.

‘You know, I lost a lot of money on you several years ago,’ Zōu said. ‘Rumour has it there’s a new prodigy in the field. A master bowman who can’t be defeated. All the odds are in his favour. I could stand to make a lot of money if my champion managed to defeat this young upstart. I hope those
unidentified
alley dogs didn’t hurt you too badly.’

Stand as the crime lord’s champion? Gambling was officially illegal in the city, but the magistrates tended to turn an blind eye, especially when it came to popular events such as archery. It would be a tricky situation to navigate.

‘When?’ Fei Long asked.

‘Two weeks.’

It was too soon. The pain in his side would be worsened by the strain of the bow. ‘And if I lose?’

Zōu shrugged. ‘Then you keep on paying until I recover what you owe me, one way or another. You may have powerful friends, but I have desperate, more deplorable acquaintances.’

‘You’ll keep your word?’

‘Yes, of course,’ Zōu waved at him dismissively. ‘You’re rather a pain to deal with, Lord Chang. And not nearly as entertaining as your father. Win this and I’ll have ten times the amount you owe me.’

Lose and he would be truly out of options.

Chapter Eighteen

H
e expected to find Yan Ling waiting anxiously for him in the courtyard when he returned. Perhaps not expected as much as hoped. It was unseemly to speak too personally with the servants of the household. It only served to embarrass them. Yet Yan Ling wasn’t a servant. He could share his thoughts with her, plan out ideas. She was something else entirely to him. Fei Long didn’t know quite what that was.

As soon as he had returned after accepting Zōu’s challenge, he wanted to tell her. She’d scold him and tell him he was mad, but he’d convince her and, in convincing Yan Ling, he might convince himself.

Fei Ling dismissed Huibin and the stable boy once they were inside the gates. Bai Shen took his leave with great drama,
humbly
refusing to set foot inside the walls, clearly going through extra effort to extract an apology.

With his escort dispersed, Fei Long set about looking for Yan Ling. He found her seated in the parlour. The sight of the uninvited guest across from her turned his stomach.

Inspector Tong.

He could only see Yan Ling in profile, but she appeared pale as she nodded slowly. A desolate expression clouded her eyes—one he hoped to never see again.

‘Inspector Tong, what an unexpected surprise,’ he declared loudly from the entranceway, ignoring protocol. ‘How are you?’

Tong looked at him as if he was an errant mosquito, buzzing too loudly. Fei Long needed to get Yan Ling away from that man.

‘I was just now speaking to your sister about some new developments.’

She looked up at him, her eyes large in her face. ‘The date of the voyage has been changed. I’m to leave in two weeks.’

Tong stared with great interest at the bruising along the side of his face. Let the minister speculate all he wanted.

‘What is the meaning of this?’ Fei Long demanded. ‘Auspicious dates have been set. The journey was to begin mid-summer.’

‘We’ve heard news that the Uyghur delegation is also sending a bride.’

‘That is an offence to our family.’

‘Now you must listen here, Lord Chang. This is diplomacy. The ambassador from Khitan has ensured us that the khagan’s intention is to take your sister as his principal wife. We just want to make sure that is still the case. We’ll demand the wedding be performed as soon as she arrives. The Emperor is arranging for the fastest horses with several changing stations to ensure the fastest journey possible. Two weeks is the fastest we can prepare.’

‘Perhaps it is best that I go now.’ Yan Ling spoke to no one in particular, but each word rang in Fei Long’s ears. ‘Staying longer would only prolong the sorrow of leaving.’

‘I am very pleased that Lady Chang recognises her duty—more so than her brother.’

‘It is my humble duty to serve,’ she said.

Her expression was empty, flat. All the hope had drained out of it and looking at her left Fei Long gutted. Her hands were folded obediently in her lap and she kept her head bowed. It was just too soon.

Too soon for what? He knew the journey was inevitable. That she would go away. Yan Ling had sworn to see this through to the end with him. He’d sworn to do his best to teach her. What would one month or two buy them anyway? Nothing but a little more time and a few more memories.

‘I must thank the official for coming to tell us personally.’ Fei Long was unable to evoke any sincerity.

Tong must have made sure he had the honour of delivering the bad news himself. Fei Long forced his tone to remain cordial as Inspector Tong gave a few more details and then took his leave with a bow.

Fei Long accompanied the official to the gate to ensure his dark presence was gone from the house. Yan Ling was still sitting in the same spot when he returned to the parlour.

‘What does it matter—first wife, second wife, concubine?’ she said, staring ahead. ‘Still much more privileged than a lowly tea girl, right?’

She was asking for assurances, but he couldn’t utter them. He couldn’t lie.

‘Yan, if you don’t want to go—’

‘What? Such nonsense. Of course I want to go.’ She stood and paced away from him. ‘I vowed I wouldn’t disappoint you.’

That vow. The one he had no right to ask of her.

He rose. ‘You don’t have to do this.’

‘Oh, the death of me,’ she muttered.

‘What is it?’

‘The shoes.’

‘Shoes?’

She clasped her hands together, her fingers twining in agitation.

‘I won’t have enough time to fix them,’ she told him earnestly, as if the shoes were the most important thing in the world. ‘I tried to embroider them. With tigers,’ she explained while he stared at her. ‘The left one is a little bit better than the right one, but they’re laughable. Completely unacceptable.’

He was at a loss. Why were they speaking about shoes and tigers? ‘We can purchase new ones at the market.’

She nodded at his suggestion and took a calming breath, but it was no use. The storm clouds swept in. Her lips quivered before she crumbled. He went to her as fast as he could and folded his arms around her. She trembled against him, smelling like flowers and spring.

‘Yan.’ He pressed his lips against her hair and embraced her tighter. The effort made his wound ache, but the pain meant nothing if he could only hold her. ‘You’ll be all right. I’ll take care of everything.’

He needed very much for those words to mean something.

Yan Ling raised her hand to his chest to push him away, but for a moment she surrendered, closing her eyes and resting her head against his shoulder. It wasn’t long before she squirmed out of his grasp, but in that brief moment, she smelled right. She felt right.

In his arms.

‘What happened with Zōu?’ she asked, her voice choked.

‘We spoke. You don’t need to worry about him.’

‘Right. No one need ever worry about anything.’ She looked away to compose herself. ‘Only you.’

They fell to silence. Bai Shen was right. He’d let this go on too long when he should have come to his senses long ago. Yan Ling didn’t owe him this sacrifice. He’d done nothing to deserve it.

‘I’ll tell Minister Cao the truth—that Pearl ran away.’

‘Don’t you dare!’ Her eyes flashed angrily as she swung around. ‘You’ll lose everything. All we’ve done, all we’ve worked for. Your family will be dishonoured. The entire household will be sent to the streets to beg.’

Her passion took him aback. ‘This isn’t your burden to bear.’

‘Then why is it yours alone?’ she demanded.

The words caught in his throat. He was stunned. He was the eldest son. The only son. No one would ever question that this was his responsibility and no one else’s. ‘You don’t have to do this…for me.’

‘I’m not.’ She bent her head. ‘This is what I came here to do.’ When she met his eyes, her gaze was clear. ‘I’m just sad to go. Any girl would be. Call it weakness.’

‘You’re not weak, Yan Ling.’

He watched her as she pulled even further away from him, fighting to control her emotions. She wasn’t very good at hiding them. Not like him.

‘Not weak at all,’ he asserted, quietly, to no one but himself.

* * *

Yan Ling retreated to the solitude of her room, claiming that she had a headache. She shut all the windows so it was dark and cool. Then she curled into a tight ball in the alcove of her bed and did nothing. No studying, no embroidery.

She counted days in her head. Inspector Tong would take away the few she had left. No gradual farewell. No time to hoard memories. Her departure would be a cold, quick incision, separating flesh from bone.

Dao came in on silent feet like a cat to bring tea and a plate of sweets for her. She set the tray down beside the bed and sat patiently, not saying a word. Waiting. After an hour or so, she got up.

‘Feel better, Yan,’ she said before slipping just as quietly away.

Of course Yan Ling didn’t want to go to Khitan. She wanted to stay in this beautiful city with fruited trees and glowing lanterns. She wanted to waste her days going to the market and her nights attending plays with fantastic costumes, but there was a price and she had always known it.

And what hardship was it really? She was going as a princess to a foreign land. She would be looked upon with the highest regard and waited on by servants. She would never sleep on a hard, cold floor again beside the ashes of a cooling hearth. Had she become so spoiled that she wasn’t grateful?

She didn’t want any such wealth or luxury. She wanted to be with Fei Long, but no matter how tender he could be or how heated his glances, he would never allow it.

He’d been kind to her. He’d been generous. It was selfish to ask for more, especially when he sacrificed so much for those around him. So she’d do this one thing and she’d do it with as much grace as she could, even if she had to grit her teeth the entire time. She’d learned such sacrifice from Fei Long. It was the one thing he could appreciate and respect. Forbearance.

* * *

By the time Dao came back with dinner, Yan Ling had recovered enough to present a good face. They set the tray in the sitting area and shared melon soup and plates of cooked vegetables and seared pork.

‘Do you know they eat mostly lamb in Khitan?’ Yan Ling asked, by way of conversation.

‘I’ve had lamb before,’ Dao replied. ‘It’s not bad.’

They ate in silence for a bit, picking up morsels from the small plates into their rice bowls.

‘Lord Chang has been very quiet all day,’ Dao reported.

‘He usually doesn’t say much.’

‘I heard from Huibin that he’s accepted some sort of
archery contest.’

‘Oh.’ She was only able to be uninterested for a few bites. ‘Archery? How is that supposed to help anything?’

‘This is how Lord Chang is expected to repay his debt. Zōu expects significant returns from the betting.’

‘You know about the debt, then.’

Dao looked downwards, concentrating on her rice bowl. It was acknowledgement enough. Fei Long had been so intent on keeping everything private, but all the secrets were out now. The entire household was involved.

‘It doesn’t seem like him to hinge so much on a wager,’ Yan Ling said. ‘And his wound hasn’t fully healed yet. He can barely walk.’

She was exaggerating, of course. Fei Long was getting better day by day, but she was still worried. The physician had left strict instructions for him to continue resting and not to lift anything.

Dao didn’t share her concerns. ‘Have you seen him with a bow and arrow? Everyone knows Lord Chang can’t be beaten. The Great Shoot that year was legendary.’

There was some mention of it at the drinking house after the play. ‘He was quite good?’

‘Oh, more than good!’ Dao’s eyes lit up as she told the tale. ‘There had been several friendly contests in the parks leading up to the festival, and rumours were circulating that there was a young master, not yet instated in the imperial army, who could not miss.’

Yan Ling leaned forwards, hungry for every word.

Dao continued, ‘But young Lord Chang was so humble, he never told anyone that he was the bowman everyone spoke of. Maybe he didn’t even know!’

‘That is just like him,’ she agreed.

‘On the day of the shoot, everyone took wagers on who this prodigy must be. Many of the favoured sons of the city came out to the field dressed in colorful costumes, bragging up and down, while Lord Chang was a quiet tiger lying in the shadows.’

She could picture Fei Long perfectly as Dao told the rest of the story. After the first few rounds, a rain of arrows had fallen and the ranks began to thin. The crowd began to whisper that down at the end of the line was a young archer who had not only hit every target, but whose skill and technique was as clean and fluid as a line of poetry. He wasted not one movement, not one arrow.

Soon the spectators had drifted to crowd around the far end of the field to watch him and even the Emperor beneath his coloured awning had taken notice. By the end of the match, it was the imperial archery instructor himself against Fei Long. The two of them would take an arrow from their quivers, draw back and shoot in tandem. Arrow after arrow. Dead centre.

‘When the last arrow came up, do you know what Lord Chang did?’

Yan Ling ground her teeth with anticipation. ‘He couldn’t have missed!’

‘Fei Long aimed high into the air and shot it deep into the forest, missing on purpose. Then he bowed before the imperial archer, acknowledging the older man’s much greater skill and experience. So the instructor laughed heartily and let his final arrow fly in very same manner. They say the two arrows were never found.’

That was Fei Long to the very essence. Allowing the respected master to save face rather than claiming the glory for himself.

‘He must win this time,’ Yan Ling said, bolstered by Dao’s tale.

But in her heart, she knew Fei Long hadn’t fully recovered. He would never admit it to anyone, least of all his enemies.

‘This archery contest is set for the fifteenth of the month. It’s a much more private affair than a Great Shoot,’ Dao said.

‘Ten days,’ she said wistfully. ‘I could be gone by then, Dao.’

Time was flowing too quickly. She’d already wasted half a day shut inside this room. Suddenly Yan Ling was besieged by things she yearned to do and see: the Wild Goose Pagoda in the southern part of the city and the Serpentine River Park. She wanted to visit them all and she wanted Fei Long to be the one beside her, but everything the Chang family owned could be taken away.

‘You know Yan, everyone was always drawn to Fei Long. He wasn’t as fun-loving and boisterous as the elder Lord Chang, but people liked him.’

Yan Ling remained quiet. She knew where this would go.

‘When I saw Lord Chang so badly beaten…’ Dao paused to pour more tea ‘…I was heartsick. Such a tragedy brings forth great feeling.’

‘I’m not falling in love with him,’ Yan Ling assured, with a trace of bitterness. Dao was still staring at her. ‘I’m not.’

‘Good, then.’

She refused to speak any more about it. Anything she said would only reveal how deep her feelings had become and those feelings were unacceptable.

From Dao’s perspective, the arrangement with Khitan was to everyone’s benefit. Yan Ling’s little lie to Dao was nothing when compared against the greater good.