Jeannie Lin - My Fair Concubine

‘When will you go to the temple?’

‘Tomorrow.’ She grinned. ‘I’m already prepared.’

Min began gathering up the locks of hair and the other supplies. ‘I better return these to Old Man Liang before he realises they’re missing.’ She paused as she picked up the jewelled hairpins. ‘Well, I don’t have any use for these any more.’

They laughed together. With the laughter, some of the apprehension Yan Ling had harboured throughout the journey uncoiled within her. She grew pleasantly warm in their small intimate circle. Yet at the same time, she was stricken with a pang of sadness. She would be alone in a house of strangers once more when the lady left.

‘You should take them.’ Min held the pins out to her. ‘And thank you.’

Without warning, the lady swept her up in an embrace. Yan Ling returned it with not as much grace as she would have liked, but Lady Min didn’t seem to notice. When they moved apart, the lady ceremoniously placed the hairpins across Yan Ling’s palm.

‘Fei Long must not be so different from his father after all, bringing you here. He’s not completely blind to a young and pretty woman.’

‘Oh, no.’ Yan Ling’s face grew hot and she shook her head vehemently. ‘That’s not why I’m here at all.’

She quickly explained her role in replacing Pearl as the alliance bride, though there was no way to escape the questionable nature of their journey, alone together when they were neither family nor husband and wife, sleeping in the same chamber. Yan Ling flushed with embarrassment. Maybe this was why Fei Long needed someone with no reputation to lose. If she had any sort of family name to call her own, it would be ruined already.

‘Well.’ Min blew out a breath after the explanation was done. ‘As I said, not so different from his father as I thought.’

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘Fei Long wasn’t always so morose. There’s still some life in him.’ Min embraced her again. ‘Just remember. The elder Lord Chang was a good man. No matter what you may hear.’

The lady stole away in a swirl of silk. After a moment, Yan Ling sank onto the chair, wondering what had just happened. And why, when Min had been so overwhelmingly cheerful, did her parting words sound like a dire warning?

Yan Ling had never heard Fei Long shout during their journey together. He rarely raised his voice above the stern and steady tone that she’d come to know so well. That morning, she learned that he could shake the rooftops if he chose to.

The yelling brought her out of her room and sent her running into the central courtyard. Maybe there was a fire. Surely someone was dying.

Dao nearly collided with her on the pebbled walkway. ‘Lady Min,’ Dao pronounced, looking to the front of the house. ‘She’s done something crazy again.’

The pieces fell into place quickly between the male and female voices raised in argument followed by the sight of Min running through the courtyard, sobbing loudly. Her bare head gleamed in the morning sun while her opulent robe fluttered behind her. Dao stared after the lady with eyes wide and mouth open as Min disappeared into the back of the house.

‘What is this place?’ Fei Long was shouting. ‘This isn’t my home. This is a den of wild animals.’

‘Will he calm down if we just wait?’ Yan Ling looked to Dao, whose only answer was to shake her head helplessly.

‘Bald as a Shaolin monk,’ he ranted. ‘I must already be dead. This must already be the afterlife because no one alive could be so stupid .’

Several servants from the kitchen and surrounding chambers peeked into the courtyard, only to duck away when Fei Long continued his tirade. Min’s sobbing had receded into the house, but it grew louder once again. She came back into the first courtyard with eyes swollen red and a travel pack slung over her shoulder.

‘On my mother,’ Dao swore under her breath. ‘The scandal.’

‘Stop her before she leaves the house,’ Yan Ling directed, her pulse skipping. ‘I’ll go speak to Lord Chang.’ Maybe it wasn’t her place to be giving orders, but she felt responsible for helping Lady Min.

The servant girl ran in one direction while Yan Ling hurried in the other. She slipped into the front part of the house and wove her way through the hallway. It wasn’t hard to find Fei Long. He had taken to swearing a river of oaths behind a closed door.

‘My lord.’ The door loomed before her. She pressed a hand to her stomach to try to calm it. ‘Are you all right?’

The stomping inside ceased. ‘Miss Yan Ling, this is a private matter. Please return to your room.’ His voice sounded muffled through the barrier.

Private? Not any more when every porter on the street could likely hear him.

‘Maybe I can be of help,’ she began.

The door swung open slowly and Fei Long appeared. There was a slight flush to his cheeks and his eyes glinted with a dangerous light. ‘There is nothing for you to concern yourself with here.’

She could hear the strain at the edge of his voice as he resorted to extreme politeness.

‘Pardon us, miss, for disrupting your morning,’ he continued.

His chest rose and fell rapidly and the muscles of his face pulled tight as he fought for control. Maybe she could help. She was an outsider and he wouldn’t dare yell at her … as loudly, at least.

‘Everyone in the house is frightened. Lady Min is crying.’

The mention of the lady’s name had Fei Long gritting his teeth. ‘She’s lost her mind.’

What would calm him? She tried to think of what little she knew of him and she could only think of one thing.

‘Let me have some tea brought to you.’

Yes, tea. He did all his planning with her over tea. And he had come to the teahouse to ponder over his troubles when she’d first met him. He regarded her woodenly, perhaps thinking that she, too, had lost her mind. But slowly, as if with great difficulty, he nodded once.

A small victory.

They were seated with the tea tray arranged before them in his father’s study. It was his study now, as was everything that had once belonged to his father: this mansion, the servants, all the troubles he’d stirred up like rats let loose in a storehouse.

Like rats, the problems gnawed away at what remained bit by bit. Like rats, they multiplied.

Yan Ling scooped the tea leaves into the special enamel cups. Her hand trembled slightly as she lifted the pot of steaming water. That small break brought him back to himself. These problems weren’t meant for her or the other servants. He was wrong to involve all of them.

‘I apologise for my anger,’ he said.

He had been completely stricken senseless by the sight of his father’s young concubine shaved bald. Even the thought of such foolishness made his pulse rise once more.

Steam rose from the cups and Yan Ling gently placed the lids over them to let the leaves steep. She sat back with her hands in her lap.

Her fingers twined together. ‘Lady Min came to me last night—’

‘We should speak of other things,’ he interrupted.

‘I think her intentions were well meaning.’

He let out a slow breath. She wasn’t going to spare him this shame. ‘How is bringing scandal upon this house well meaning?’ he asked. ‘Lady Min has no reason to complain. She was once a servant in our household before my father made her his concubine.’

Fei Long’s own father had always let his passionate nature get the best of him. Shame soured his stomach once again. It was impossible to hide such personal family matters from Yan Ling while she lived here among them.