The Lotus Palace. Jeannie Lin

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ eyes flickered languidly toward her.

      The whorled patterns on his shell resembled the octagonal pattern of the Taoist bagua symbol. Yue-ying had heard it told that the tortoise was over a hundred years old. He had come from a faraway land, across the ocean. Those black eyes had seen more than she ever would.

      She had enough on her mind today without Lord Bai trying to complicate things for his own amusement. Mingyu had been agitated for days and nothing Yue-ying said or did could soothe her.

      “Why is Mingyu never happy?” she asked the ancient creature.

      The tortoise had no answer and Yue-ying’s moment of rest was over. She left him to his afternoon sun and continued on to the main altar room. As she paused outside to remove her slippers someone ran into her, toppling her basket.

      Gasping, Yue-ying scrambled to salvage her goods. The lychees she’d bought were delicate and very expensive. The round fruit was scattered all over the bamboo mat and she hurried to pick them up before they were trampled.

      “Watch yourself.”

      She recognized who it was even before looking up. Huilan was another of the famed beauties of the quarter. Her voice was often compared to the trill of a song thrush, but she didn’t sound so pleasant now.

      The courtesan stood like an empress over her. “Oh, it’s you.”

      Yue-ying kept her temper under control. “Perhaps we can all show a little more care.”

      Huilan’s hair was an unusual shade of brown with hints of red, giving her an exotic quality that she had become known for. She knelt in a graceful sweep, but, rather than helping, she merely picked up a rough-skinned lychee between two fingers and straightened. “Are these in season now?”

      With a sigh, Yue-ying packed everything back into her basket while continuing to kneel at Huilan’s feet. Finally she stood.

      “They were at the front of the farmer’s quadrant in the East Market. There were only two baskets of them and the price was very steep,” she reported, carefully maintaining a cordial tone.

      Huilan made a sound of acknowledgment and let the lychee drop into the basket. “How is Mingyu, anyway?”

      For a moment, her tone sharpened. A strange look crossed her face, but then it was gone. The so-called Four Beauties of the North Hamlet weren’t necessarily in competition with one another, but they were mentioned and compared so often that a subtle rivalry had emerged. Though Huilan was outwardly sweet-voiced and sweet-faced, she was as shrewd as Mingyu when it came to maintaining her elevated position.

      “She is well.”

      “Hmm...good to hear it.”

      Huilan turned away, concluding their exchange with no further attempt at politeness. She glided across the courtyard in a cloud of yellow silk and disappeared through the gate.

      Yue-ying nudged off her slippers and entered the shrine. A spicy, camphor-laced scent filled the room from the incense smoldering on the altar. Setting her basket aside, she took three sticks of incense from the holder at the altar and held the ends to the candle flame until they ignited, releasing the fragrant oil in the coating.

      Clasping the incense between her palms, she bowed her head as the smoke curled a lazy spiral around her. She tried to form a coherent prayer, but all she could think of was the angry rumble of the earth that morning and Mingyu’s pale and frightened expression. So she asked the goddess Guan Yin to look over and protect them, in any way she might see fit.

      When she was done, Yue-ying dropped several coins into the alms bowl and paid one final visit to the old tortoise before leaving the temple. She saw that Huilan hadn’t gone far. The courtesan was standing at the foot of the nearest bridge. The sun caught the reddish streaks in her hair as a young man in scholar’s robes approached her.

      Yue-ying ducked her head and kept on walking to give Huilan her privacy. The temple was known as a place where scholars and candidates congregated, and it was a popular place to meet and gain new admirers.

      As she traveled along the outer edge of the market to return home her way was blocked by a sizable crowd that had gathered along the canal. Although she was expected back at the Lotus, Mingyu might be pleased to have some gossip at hand to spark conversation with her visitors. Yue-ying ducked and elbowed her way through to the front to see what was going on.

      Down below, a man stood beside a boat that had been pulled out of the water. He wore the uniform and headdress of a constable and towered over the other men. She was close enough to see his face, which was unfamiliar to her. He had an austere and unpleasant look about him. Not a man one wanted to see angry.

      Whoever this was, he was new to the ward. Perhaps brought in by Magistrate Li, who had been appointed just before the new Emperor took the throne. The constable gestured to the other men in uniform, who moved quickly to follow his command. She was so eager for information about the tall stranger that it took her a moment to realize why the magistrate’s enforcers were gathered in the waterway.

      There was a body lying in the boat at the edge of the water. An arm poked out from the length of canvas draped over the vessel and the skin covering it was black and rotted.

      CHAPTER TWO

      THE DUANWU FESTIVAL took place on the fifth day of the fifth month. An hour after sunrise, the dragonboats were already moving into position for the traditional race down the Grand Canal. Bai Huang stood at the keel of one of the colorful vessels as it floated toward the starting dock. He enjoyed the warm breeze over his face and the marsh and mud scent of the water, which he always associated with this city.

      It was summer, the banquet season, and he was finally back in the capital of Changan, surrounded by all its grandeur. Twenty-five pairs of rowers lined the boat, operating the oars in unison. They pulled at a leisurely pace to conserve their strength. Huang stood where the drummer would be seated. He enjoyed the quiet of the morning as the crowds began to gather on either side of the river.

      As they neared the dock Huang spied a figure moving among the tethered boats. Yue-ying, the industrious little maidservant. She did manage to show up everywhere, didn’t she? Unlike the courtesans of the quarter, she didn’t seem confined to her house. He had seen her dodging carts in the market, running to wine shops, even hauling drunken patrons of the Lotus Palace onto sedan chairs after a particularly long night.

      She’d done so once for him last autumn. He’d attempted to flirt with her even though she was only a servant because he figured it was expected of him. The fool Bai Huang lacked shame or manners, but he made up for it with good looks and money, so he was tolerated.

      The girl had treated him like a sack of potatoes that night. After that, Huang had made a point of trying to catch her eye, but she couldn’t be charmed. She couldn’t be bribed. He was fascinated.

      Today she wore a pale green robe, the color almost nonexistent and only there to keep the dress from being white. She tried so very hard to be nondescript, to disappear, but her face was likely the most recognizable one in the quarter.

      The birthmark over her left cheek was a swirl of dark red. It ran down her face and along the line of her jaw, stopping just short of her chin. Her complexion otherwise was fair, highlighting the stain even more. It was as if an artist painting her had started to form the shape of her mouth when he’d inadvertently splashed red ink СКАЧАТЬ