Jeannie Lin - The Lotus Palace

The candidates who had been granted the official rank of scholar would be petitioning the Ministry of Personnel for appointments and then they would wait. And wait. During the wait, they would frequent the taverns and pleasure houses of the Pingkang quarter, trying to catch the eye of someone with influence. Many court officials frequented those very same banquets and gatherings. It provided Huang with an opportunity to mingle among the officials and hopefuls, though he wasn’t looking to gain influence or secure an official position.

The late Emperor Wuzong had become unpredictable during the last years of his reign, developing an unstable temperament after ingesting too many potions in his quest for immortality. Multiple factions had developed within the imperial court and they spent more effort warring with each other than administering the empire. The former Emperor had added to the feud by banishing the more levelheaded officials to the far corners of the empire.

Though his father had been sent away from the capital, Huang was able to stay close. His past reputation as a wastrel made it easy for him to be deemed as harmless and his willingness to toss cash about made him a favored guest at every pleasure house. He simply exaggerated the persona into the Bai Huang that everyone in the North Hamlet now recognized.

He dressed in overembellished silks in the brightest colors. He laughed at everyone’s jokes, even and especially when they were directed at him. He was the beloved fool. The flower prince of the Pingkang li.

Several scholars called out to him as he passed by. A group of young ladies from one of the pleasure houses waved their scarves to get his attention. He gave them a smile, but passed on.

The East Market Commissioner had cornered a place near the ending point of the race. His entourage was set up beneath a large tent beside the canal. Huang searched among the party for Lady Huilan, the famous courtesan.

He found her seated on a pillow in the center of the tent. Huilan had been named one of the Four Beauties of the Pingkang li after a highly celebrated contest during the banquet season last summer. Her features were slightly elongated and her hair was the color of rosewood. Verses dedicated to Huilan mentioned her highly prized moon-pale complexion set against eyes like the sun. They called her the Precious Orchid of Silla. According to local fable, she’d learned how to sing as a child in that faraway kingdom before being brought to Changan.

Huilan sang lyrics from a popular poem about two dueling dragons while plucking out an accompanying melody on the pipa. Her silk and smoke voice carried through the crowd. Huang caught her eye and then turned to the waterway as if to watch for the dragonboats. Drums began to beat downstream at the start of the hour. The race had begun.

Eventually, Huilan freed herself and stepped away from the tent. Casually, Huang wandered toward the food stands at the same time, stopping before one that sold pickled and preserved plums.

A moment later, Huilan was beside him. “Two,” she said to the vendor, keeping her gaze directed forward.

He paid for the plums, pushing a folded paper across the stand along with his copper. The vendor smoothly took the coins while the paper disappeared into Huilan’s sleeve. The festival atmosphere provided opportunity for young men and women to mingle. To anyone watching, they were just another couple exchanging a love letter.

“What information did you have for me?” he asked.

“You’ll get it tomorrow.” Outwardly, her expression remained pleasant.

Several days ago, she had asked for his help to leave the quarter. She had been cryptic about it, offering information that she promised he’d find valuable. It hadn’t sounded like the usual courtesan’s plea to redeem her from a cruel foster mother. Huilan had acted genuinely frightened.

She showed none of that fear now. She was eerily calm as she took the skewers of plums from the vendor. “I must go. The commissioner paid for a musician for the hour. I don’t want him complaining to Mother.”

“Can you not speak here? Is there a better place for us to meet?”

Huilan shook her head and smiled mysteriously at him. As she turned to go she paused to touch a hand to his sleeve, just over his wrist. “Thank you for your concern, Lord Bai. You are very kind.”

With that, she floated back toward the minister’s awning, a vision in red silk.

He remained nearby for a while longer, in case Huilan had a change of heart, but when she made no further attempt to communicate with him, he continued upstream along the canal. A group of exam candidates called him over to share wine. None of them had passed this round of examinations. Some of them would return to their homes; others would stay on to make another attempt. The setback was treated like a well-worn battle scar. They were young and invincible.

These young men were the same set who sought sport at the gambling houses and courted the young, lesser-known beauties of the Pingkang li. Huang had once taken on the city with the same exuberance, but he’d become much wiser and more reserved. Some might say he’d been taught a lesson he’d never forget.

A gasp of excitement rose from the crowd as the dragonboats came into full view. There were over fifteen in the race. They presented a dramatic sight side by side, all painted in different colors like a rainbow flying over the water. The rowers in each vessel pulled in unison while the beating of the drums set out a steady rhythm.

Out of the corner of his eye, Huang caught sight of a vermilion sash set against a leaf-green robe. Yue-ying stood beside her mistress now, holding a bamboo parasol to shade her from the sun. Lady Mingyu was carrying on a conversation with several scholar-gentlemen who appeared completely enraptured by her words while Yue-ying remained quiet in the background.

What would she be like when freed from beneath the hand of her dictatorial mistress? He wanted very much to speak to her alone again and find out.

He looked back to the racing dragons. As Yue-ying had predicted, the blue dragon was trailing and the orange was in the middle of the fleet, with little chance of pulling ahead. Her two choices for favorites were in the lead; green and gold. He doubted those were merely her favorite colors as she claimed. Yue-ying had shown herself to be neither whimsical nor impulsive.

First Huilan had sought him out with her veiled promises. Then a clever little maidservant had him completely beguiled. That was the problem when dealing with the ladies of the North Hamlet. Every look and word had two meanings. They did it deliberately to taunt young, impressionable scholars. As if women weren’t enough of a mystery already.

CHAPTER THREE

THE DAYTIME ACTIVITIES of the festival centered on the Grand Canal and dragonboat races, but once the sun went down the pleasure houses competed for the evening crowd. The Lotus Palace benefited from being one of the most recognizable establishments in the Pingkang li.

The building itself was two stories high and contained a number of parlors and a banquet hall suitable for entertaining, but the topmost tier was what gave the Lotus Palace its name. The deck was open on all sides, providing a view of the night sky. An octagon of painted beams supported the eaves, which curved upward to resemble the petals of a lotus flower. It was the perfect setting during the spring and summer for gazing at the moon and composing poetry over cups of warmed wine.

In addition to their usual patrons, the new county magistrate was hosting a banquet there—his first public gathering since taking office. Magistrate Li Yen had the disadvantage of not only being young for a man in his position, but appearing youthful as well. He was twenty-five years of age and it was widely believed he was only given his position due to family connections.