Jeannie Lin - The Lotus Palace

“May I stay here tonight?”

The headmistress looked startled. “Of course, my lord, but—”

She must have thought better of whatever question she wanted to ask. It was an odd request, but not too outrageous. And he was known for indulging in whimsical pursuits.

He shared the evening meal with Madame Lui downstairs. They were joined by the lovely Mei, who was the leading lady of the Hundred Songs now that her courtesan-sister was gone. Though the mourning period was hardly a time for flirtation, Mei took pains to be charmingly attentive while Madame Lui prodded her to refill his wine cup and place choice morsels onto his plate.

Quite early in the evening, Huang excused himself, claiming he’d had a tiring day. The entire household gathered to watch him go up the stairs. It was eerie; all the ladies dressed in white mourning robes, their dark eyes wide and fixed onto him.

He took only a single lantern with him. Once inside, he closed the doors and looked about the parlor. It remained a mausoleum to Huilan. Her writing was still on the walls alongside verses from her admirers.

Moving to the inner chamber, Huang looked briefly through what was left of Huilan’s personal belongings for any hint to what had happened to her. He found only womanly things: hairpins, jars of cosmetics and articles of clothing packed away in a dresser.

There was one change from the last time he’d been in the room. Her writing box lay on top of the desk now instead of out in the sitting room and the brush had been cleaned. A few sheets of colored paper remained inside. The brush had been damp with ink the night of Huilan’s death. She must have been writing a letter of some sort, but all of the papers in the box were blank. Anything of interest had probably been confiscated by the constable during his investigation.

With his brief search completed, Huang extinguished the lantern and lay back on the bed to wait. The room was left in darkness, without even the glimmer of the moon to accompany him. In the stillness, he could indeed sense Huilan’s spirit. Not her ghost. Not the chill of the air or any pale, wispy visions. Rather, he felt the brief and tenuous way she’d affected him. His resolve strengthened as he lay in the same place where she took her last breath. As eerie as it was, it grounded him.

Yue-ying and likely the entire Pingkang li now suspected him of being Huilan’s lover, but he’d only spoken with her a few times. She had asked for his help, but had been reluctant to give him details. She didn’t yet know if she could trust him. When someone went looking for someone to rely on, they certainly didn’t think of Bai Huang.

“I’ll find who did this to you,” he said to the darkness. “I swear it.”

The moment he finished speaking, he heard the scraping sound of nails against wood. He wasn’t one to be afraid of ghosts, but his heart hurtled against his chest and he shot up into a sitting position.

The sound came from outside. The shutters creaked as they swung open and a sliver of moonlight spilled into the chamber. He held himself still, holding his breath, as a hand appeared, then an arm. Soon the entire silhouette of a person stepped from the window onto the floor.

He launched himself at the black figure, colliding with arms and legs and something very definitely corporeal.

“On my mother!” the intruder cried before Huang clamped a hand over his mouth.

The man was slight of build. Huang pinned him facedown to the floor with his knee lodged between the man’s shoulder blades. The sound of footsteps rushed toward them out in the hallway.

“Lord Bai!” Madame Lui’s voice trembled with alarm from the other side of the chamber door.

“It’s nothing,” he called out, affecting a laugh while keeping a lock on the intruder’s arm. “I fell down in the dark. Quite embarrassing.”

“Do you...do you need anything?” Propriety and the fear of ghosts kept the ladies from entering.

“I’m fine. Back in bed now. My apologies for startling you.” He gave the intruder a warning shove, pressing his face against the floorboards when the man started to struggle.

Once the footsteps receded, he let go of the man’s head, allowing him to raise it from the floor.

“Who are you?” the stranger demanded.

“Who am I? I should be asking you that question.”

The man didn’t answer. Huang had noted the tree just outside of Huilan’s window and figured out how the “ghost” had gotten inside. The first time the women had heard footsteps, the intruder must have made it to the hallway, before being startled by Madame Lui, after which he ran back to the room and out the window again.

“Did you not hear me?” Huang shook him roughly. “Who are you and what business do you have here?”

“I’m not a thief. I came because—” His voice broke and the next part came out rough with emotion. “Because I wanted to see Huilan one last time.”

* * *

HUANG LIT THE LANTERN. He even managed to procure a flask of wine and some cups from a cabinet in the parlor. Then he poured the wine and let the heartbroken stranger do most of the talking. His name was Wen Tse-kang. From his robe, he appeared to be a student. From the roundness in his cheeks, he appeared to be from one of the younger classes.

“I loved her.” Tse-kang let his tears fall down his face without shame. “We loved each other.”

“You know what happened to her,” Huang said, keeping his tone neutral.

“I heard of the news the morning after. Some of my colleagues were whispering about a beautiful courtesan who had been tragically killed. I ran all the way here, praying it wasn’t Huilan, telling myself that in no way could it be her. But it was.” He covered his face as his features twisted with grief.

Huang’s instinct told him this student wasn’t the murderer. His grief and confusion were genuine. But at the same time, he remembered Yue-ying’s warning about lovers being capable of violence. All it took was one moment of blind passion. They couldn’t be so quick to dismiss anyone from the list of suspects.

“When was the last time you saw her?”

Tse-kang looked up, as if just seeing Huang for the first time. “Are you one of her patrons? I don’t care if you have me arrested and beaten. I still don’t regret coming here.”

Definitely a youthful and impassioned scholar.

“I’m not one of her patrons, but I do have some influence in the North Hamlet,” he lied. “I’m not going to have you arrested as long as you tell me everything I want to know.”

“The last time I saw her was at the dragonboat races by the canal. I had only a moment to speak to her. She looked beautiful that day. She always looked so beautiful.” The young scholar stared down at his hands. “I don’t know why she ever looked at me twice.”

“What did you say to her?”

Tse-kang looked directly at him as if he had nothing left in the world to fear. “I told her the preparations were ready. That we could go that night. That was our plan—her plan. She was going to leave this place and we would go together. Get married.” His chin lifted defiantly. “We were supposed to meet at the bridge by the temple, but she never came. I thought she had changed her mind.”

The plan sounded plausible. There was more freedom to move about at night during festivals. Huilan had the pass that he had provided in order to get through the ward gates, but there was still the vastness of the city to contend with and then the open road beyond that.

“When did she start talking about leaving the capital?”

Tse-kang thought back. “Maybe a month ago. The first time she brought it up briefly when we met at the bridge. I protested that my studies weren’t finished. What could I have to offer a woman like her as a failed student?”