Jeannie Lin - The Jade Temptress

He thanked the butcher for his assistance, but the man remained in the storeroom, too curious to return to his counter. When Kaifeng positioned himself in front of one of the pigs and drew his sword, the boy stopped his scrubbing to watch with fascination.

Setting his feet and squaring his shoulders, Kaifeng sank into his stance. He gripped the broadsword in both hands—he had the feeling he would need the extra power in his swing—and pulled the weapon back.

Tension gathered in his shoulders as he prepared himself. He had watched the executioner deal such a blow, but had never done it himself. He had, however, wielded his sword against a flesh and blood enemy enough times to know the impact of steel into bone.

With a deep breath, he reared back and then struck with the exhale, directing his blow not into the body, but to a point on the other side. The broadsword sank deep, but not through the corpse. The resistance in the body stopped him short even though he was swinging at full force. It took another swipe to sever the head from the body. The carcass fell to the floor with a thump and the boy gasped in amazement.

“A little harder next time,” the butcher said encouragingly.

For the second carcass, Kaifeng circled around so he was facing the back of the pig.

“It’s going to be more difficult that way, Constable,” the butcher warned.

Kaifeng readied himself and struck again. Once again, he’d failed to sever the head in one blow, but that hadn’t quite been his aim. He inspected the cuts he’d made with his broadsword.

The first blow had indeed resulted in a clean cut. The secondary cut was easily discernible from the ragged edge of the wound. Next he tested a few cuts from the butcher’s cleaver and his machete. Tools that the butcher necessarily kept honed. Again, the cuts were discernible. The cleaver was blunter. The machete sharper and cleaner, but not as precise as his sword.

“Did you get the answers you were looking for, Constable?” the butcher asked.

“Too soon for conclusive answers.” Kaifeng cleaned his sword with a rag and sheathed it. “Just gathering information.”

General Deng had been beheaded with a single stroke, by a man who was both sword-trained and strong enough to deliver the death blow. There had been a slight angle to Deng’s wound, a downward cut that would seem more natural for taking a head, especially when the victim was sitting or kneeling. Most likely the blow was dealt from the front. By someone who was right-handed.

It was still possible that someone Deng trusted had positioned himself behind the general, but very unlikely. A fighting man wouldn’t allow anyone who was dangerous such an advantage. Even though Kaifeng’s size might render most men less threatening, he was still aware of who was around him. Especially if that person was armed.

The killer would be an experienced fighter, most likely tall in stature, possessing a good sword. Deng’s bodyguards were immediately suspect. Kaifeng had been unable to track them down the day before, but it was only a matter of time.

There was another explanation Kaifeng hadn’t yet considered. Deng had gone without his bodyguards and without his weapon. Was it possible that Deng had expected to die? But why summon Mingyu that morning?

A chill settled in his blood. The general might have wanted to see her one last time before dying. Or he could have planned for her to accompany him on that last, long journey into darkness. Perhaps Deng had planned it that way all along.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“I DON’T KNOW why we have to entertain at a public drinking house,” Ziyi complained.

Mingyu was accompanied that evening by Ziyi and Jing-min, one of the younger girls of the house. Their destination was a tavern in the northern quadrant of the ward, reachable on foot, but still a good distance away.

“It will be loud, crowded. Full of all sorts of who-knows-what.”

“It’s good practice and there is a sizable gathering there tonight.” Mingyu led them toward the pair of lanterns flickering at the end of the street. “Good opportunity for introductions.”

“But you’re not performing.”

“I’m in mourning,” Mingyu replied serenely. “And I have less need to cultivate a following than my younger courtesan-sisters.”

Ziyi snorted. Jing-min remained quiet as she kept pace beside them. She had her pipa held close to her side. At fifteen and having been in training for a short five years, she only performed outside of the Lotus Palace once in a while and always under supervision.

Tonight the three of them had taken care to dress in complementary colors, knowing they would be seen together. They floated down the lane in pink, yellow and green, a field of flowers.

Mingyu paused to read the signboard over the entrance which listed the establishment as the Golden Flower Tavern.

“Here,” she directed. “And be pleasant. Or at least be well-mannered.”

Ziyi made a face as she moved past. Jing-min merely bowed her head in a nod of obedience as she followed her courtesan-sister inside. The girl was pretty enough, Mingyu thought, but she was entirely too timid by nature.

Though the tavern was crowded, it wasn’t nearly as bad as Ziyi had complained. The proprietor welcomed them with a quick nod and left them to find their own place. Entertainers were good for business.

Seeing that the benches on the ground floor were filled with lower-ranking functionaries, Mingyu directed the girls upstairs where the more private seatings could be found. She was quickly rewarded for their efforts. A group of bureaucrats were enjoying wine in one of the rooms near the stairs. Though none of them recognized her, they seemed amiable.

“Such a serious and important discussion,” Mingyu remarked upon browsing by. “This seems to be an ambitious lot.”

There was a chorus of good-natured remarks and greetings.

“All except for...this one.” She singled out the one who seemed the most talkative of the group, causing the others to burst into laughter.

“She knows you, fool.”

“All beautiful women know me,” the target retorted, playing along wonderfully.

From there, it was easy to insinuate themselves. Mingyu took the liberty of pouring a round of drinks while the men lifted their cups eagerly. Ziyi and Jing-min joined in to accommodate everyone.

“My younger sister is practicing a new song. Perhaps the gentlemen would like to hear it?” Mingyu suggested.

The men were all in agreement.

“I will try my best,” Jing-min replied softly. Sometimes being shy worked out well as the men hushed around her and she became the center of attention.

The sounds of the pipa took over and the mood became immediately festive. Mingyu’s presence was no longer needed to ease the way and she managed to disengage and retreat into the hall.

Perhaps she could have a moment to herself before exploring the rest of the tavern. Madame Sun would expect her to search out any noteworthy names who happened to be there that evening and at least offer a greeting.

At the end far end of the corridor, Mingyu did encounter a familiar face, though whether or not his name was noteworthy could be debated. Wu Kaifeng sat with Magistrate Li at a table in the corner. The two of them were deep in conversation and looked more like peers engaged in a serious discussion rather than a superior speaking to his underling.

Just as she meant to retreat in the other direction, Wu looked up. His eyes locked onto her and his gaze narrowed as he considered her unexpected appearance. To turn away now would be admitting she found him unsettling, so Mingyu stood her ground. Unfortunately, this left her staring rather boldly at him. Magistrate Li continued speaking, oblivious that his constable’s attention was elsewhere. Her pulse skipped as Wu Kaifeng stood and started toward her.