Jeannie Lin - The Lotus Palace

“Young Lord Bai,” the magistrate greeted. “This banquet is to thank Lady Mingyu for an introduction to the quarter. Any friend of hers is certainly welcome.”

“Lord Bai, if you please.” Mingyu held out her hand in invitation, but her mouth formed a hard line.

Magistrate Li graciously offered the seat beside him and Yue-ying edged away as Bai Huang came near. He didn’t even glance her way as he sat down. To Yue-ying’s relief, Mingyu asked one of the girls to retrieve the wine and took it upon herself to pour. Yue-ying retreated back a few steps.

It was just a kiss, she scolded herself. It was over and done with and the nobleman didn’t seem intent on exacting revenge for her slap. The best thing to do was to forget about it.

“What happened there?” Magistrate Li asked, gesturing toward his face.

Bai Huang placed his fingertips beneath his eye and felt along the reddened scratch beneath it. She hadn’t realized she’d left a mark.

He seemed as surprised as she was. “This? I received this on the way over here. Made the mistake of cornering an alley cat.” His eyes flicked momentarily to her. “A well-deserved punishment.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks. Was he playing with her still? Despite his advances being unwelcome, she was left scandalized. It was as if she’d stolen away deliberately to meet him, as if they now shared a secret. She wanted no part of it.

The nobleman had returned to his usual tricks. He complimented Mingyu effusively, likening her to a peach blossom.

“But peach blossoms are known for being so delicate and their season is quite brief,” Mingyu replied coolly.

Bai Huang blinked at her, befuddled. “A lily, then?” he offered.

The party laughed at the exchange and he continued to look bewildered for a moment before breaking out into a grin, pleased that he must have said something witty to evoke the response.

Out in the open, he hardly presented an intimidating figure. His robe was overly flamboyant, his posture laid-back. He drank too much and threw money around. He enjoyed his special place as the beloved fool of the Pingkang li, but Yue-ying had never found him amusing. His humor always seemed too forced to her. His efforts lacked spontaneity.

Magistrate Li picked up the conversation, perhaps feeling obligated as the banquet’s sponsor. “Lord Bai, your love for verses must be in your blood. I hear that you are related to the poet Bai Juyi. His passing was a great loss.”

“A distant relation,” the nobleman replied. “Though proud of the association, I would be ashamed to boast of it. Blood matters little next to merit, wouldn’t you say?”

Mingyu glanced up from her conversation with Taizhu. The two listened with mild interest.

“No one would disagree with that,” Li said amiably.

“Now, the magistrate has something to boast about. What’s this? Attaining the rank of jinshi at only nineteen years of age? I must drink to you.”

The magistrate laughed and denied any special status. When not in his official robe, he could certainly be mistaken for one of the many students in the quarter with his pleasant manner and youthful face.

“He’s too humble,” Taizhu said. “Not only did he pass the palace exams, Li Yen earned the rank of selective talent, third overall in his class.”

Bai Huang insisted on raising his cup to drink to Li’s accomplishment. “I should ask the magistrate for advice,” he said boisterously. “What tricks did the magistrate employ to score so well?”

Magistrate Li’s ears flushed red at the tips, though that might have been from the drink. “No trick really.”

“This humble student can’t seem to pass no matter who he bribes.”

Bai Huang’s jest was met with nervous laughter from Li Yen as well as the other attendees. Taizhu scowled at him. Again he played the fool, or did he? His self-effacing smile was a bit hard at the edges.

Yue-ying was never part of such conversation. She was to remain silent and wait to be useful, always watching and always listening. It gave her an opportunity to scrutinize Lord Bai’s seemingly senseless questions and his overflowing enthusiasm. He wasn’t a know-nothing who was trying too hard to impress. He was trying very deliberately to provoke a response. But why?

She would have continued to dismiss him as well, until that horrible mockery of a kiss. Her view of him was forever changed.

“Now I wonder why there are no imperial exams for women?” Mingyu chimed in, filling the tense silence.

Her suggestion was met with equal parts chuckling and enthusiastic support.

“A new exam would need to be designed. With a different set of questions,” Taizhu proposed.

“Why should the process be any different for a woman? I would welcome the privilege of being able to fail the imperial exams.” She gave Bai Huang a sly look and he beamed.

“Let us enforce a new rule.” Mingyu held up her hand dramatically and everyone quieted to listen. In this social gathering, she was official hostess and acting magistrate. “This is a festival night. Anyone who mentions exams or appointments or politics—” she cast Taizhu a pointed look, which he accepted with good humor “—must take a penalty drink and be subjected to a punishment of the group’s choosing.”

Everyone raised their cups to make the decree official and, with that, peace was restored. Yue-ying was moving around the table to refill cups when another arrival stepped onto the pavilion deck. Mingyu stared at the man in the dark robe without recognition.

“Wu Kaifeng, the head constable,” Yue-ying informed her.

She had mentioned the body found in the river, but Mingyu hadn’t been particularly interested in the crime or the presence of a new constable. It was bad luck to speak of death, so the Pingkang li went on as if a corpse hadn’t recently drifted ashore practically at their gate.

Constable Wu came directly to them. His gaze passed over the gathering and he managed a stiff bow. Afterward, he straightened and stood rigidly, uncomfortable with the surroundings. Though he held an appointed position, he was still a working man, subservient to nearly everyone present. He addressed the magistrate.

“Sir, there is a matter that needs your attention.” His austere countenance cast gloom over the banquet just as it had by the river.

“Please excuse us.” Li Yen stood and the two men moved to stand beside one of the columns.

After a brief exchange, the magistrate returned. “My apologies for leaving so early. Lady Mingyu.” He bowed once to her, before turning to Bai Huang. “Lord Bai, I am happy to have met you, but regret that we didn’t get to converse at any length. Perhaps you would like to walk with me?”

Bai Huang tilted his head in surprise. A confused smile touched his lips, but he stood and took his leave as well, leaving behind more than one set of raised eyebrows.

* * *

THE EVENING WAS warm and all the lanterns of the North Hamlet were aglow, prolonging the festival atmosphere of the day. It would have been a good night for walking, except it was difficult to feel comfortable with Li Yen beside him and his dark and brooding servant trailing behind.

It was well-known that the Li and Bai clans supported different factions in the imperial court, with Chancellor Li Deyu dominating the court for the reign of the last two emperors. A distant relation, the magistrate would insist.

“This was my first Duanwu in the capital,” Magistrate Li remarked as they continued down the lane. “I found the festival very enjoyable.”

“A good day indeed,” Huang concurred. “My dragonboat won today so I have a heavy purse to show for it. Are we headed to the center of the Three Lanes?”

“My apologies for this delay. Has Lord Bai ever been to the House of a Hundred Songs?”