The Lotus Palace - Jeannie Lin

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      She clasped her hands around his. “You find who did this. She was like a daughter to me!”

      Madame Lui had been a great beauty herself in her youth and remained a handsome woman now, despite the redness around her eyes. She sniffed into a handkerchief.

      Magistrate Li came over from the sitting area and addressed Mei. “I understand that you were the first to find her.”

      The young courtesan nodded. “We were entertaining a large party in the banquet room. Huilan was acting as hostess while I was there to assist her. Everyone was in a happy mood and drinking wine for the festival. After an hour, Huilan complained of a headache. She told me to play a song and keep the party occupied while she went upstairs to rest for a little while, but she was gone for so long I finally went up to check on her. The moment I opened the door, I knew she wasn’t sleeping.” Mei’s voice cracked and she buried her face in her hands.

      Magistrate Li gave her a moment before continuing. “Miss, who was in the banquet room?”

      “Commissioner Ma and a few of his friends. I...I don’t remember everyone’s name.” She looked helplessly to Madame Lui.

      “They are all regular patrons who have come here many times,” the headmistress told them.

      Huang wondered why the second girl had been brought in, but Magistrate Li didn’t question her the same way he had spoken to Mei. Instead, the constable went to her. Towering a full head and shoulders over the younger girl, he spoke to her in a quiet tone. She looked over at Huang and shook her head.

      Li turned back to him. “I apologize for intruding, Lord Bai. You understand such questions must be asked. We must continue our conversation at another time.”

      He bowed in kind. “Of course, Magistrate Li.”

      If it weren’t for his lineage, Huang was certain he would have been dragged to the prison house. He started toward the door, trying to remember everything Huilan had told him. As he passed an end table he noticed a writing box lying open behind the vase. The brush had been set over the top of the case and the ink appeared fresh.

      Li Yen’s voice rang after him. “Before you go, Lord Bai.”

      He turned to see both men watching him.

      “I should ask you where you were earlier this evening—as a matter of procedure, of course,” Li assured him.

      “At the Lotus Palace,” he replied easily. “Conversing with the magistrate himself.”

      “Yes, but I do recall you were a bit late arriving.”

      “I had forgotten.” Huang faced him without flinching. “I was delightfully delayed downstairs. A conversation with a charming young lady.”

      He had followed Yue-ying into the wine cellar hoping for a private moment away from the parlors and banquets. The plan was to be charming, to humble himself, make her laugh. But he had been mistaken about how he’d be received. Apparently, he was mistaken about many things lately.

      “Ah, your alley cat?” Li recalled.

      “Yes.” Now was not the time to play the fool. “The very same creature.”

      CHAPTER FOUR

      IT WAS AN obsessed patron who had done it.

      It was a thief who was interrupted while trying to steal her jewels.

      It was the ghost of a scholar who had killed himself out of love for her.

      Or maybe it was a jealous rival, who saw how the young and talented Huilan was rising in popularity in the North Hamlet.

      “Nonsense!” Mingyu snorted when Yue-ying recounted all the theories she’d heard.

      “About the ghost or—”

      “The gossipmongers always have to infuse rivalry into everything. As if we’re filled with envy and ready to tear at each other just because we’re women. I’m devastated by Huilan’s death. She was so sweet-natured to everyone.”

      Mingyu appeared genuinely distraught as Yue-ying finished pinning her hair. She chose an understated look for Mingyu today, foregoing ornaments and jewels in her hair and only using a light trace of color on her lips and cheeks. They had found out the day before about Huilan’s death and the entire quarter was in mourning.

      “The worst of it is there is a murderer in the Pingkang li and we don’t know who it is. How can any of us feel safe?”

      Yue-ying sighed. For all her worldliness, Mingyu was so sheltered. “The stranger in the canal was also murdered, yet no one seemed to be alarmed then.”

      “I thought that was an accidental drowning.”

      “One does not accidentally drown and then climb back into a boat,” Yue-ying pointed out.

      “Oh,” Mingyu said, dismissing the loss of that life with a single word. She glanced once at herself in the bronze mirror, decided what she saw was satisfactory and stood. Mingyu spent very little time preening or fixating on her appearance. “Well, I hope that Magistrate Li will find whoever did this quickly so Huilan’s spirit can be at rest.”

      Mingyu left the dressing area while Yue-ying stayed behind to straighten the combs and pins and makeup pots. She had heard little about the mysterious body in the boat while she was certain the North Hamlet would be talking about Huilan long and loud. There would be a flood of verses lamenting her early passing, the silencing of her song, her tragic beauty.

      She felt sadness over Huilan as well. How could she not? Huilan had been close to Yue-ying in age and so full of life. The rumors said Huilan had been strangled to death. She had died struggling and afraid, her final breath forced out of her. For that to be the last thing one felt on this Earth—

      Yue-ying wiped away the tear that fell unexpectedly down her cheek. Strange to feel so deeply over someone she barely knew, someone she rarely spoke to. The last time Yue-ying had seen Huilan, they had engaged in a silly, meaningless conversation about the availability of lychees. So much of the banter of the tearooms, the pleasure houses and banquet halls was without any true meaning or purpose.

      But how could she have known to say something meaningful to Huilan that morning? That it would be her last chance to do so?

      Mingyu was calling her from the parlor. Yue-ying straightened to go to her, wondering if she should tell Mingyu how beautiful she was, how naive she could be, how much Mingyu’s distant nature sometimes hurt her and how much Yue-ying cared for her.

      * * *

      THE HUNDRED SONGS was a short walk from the Lotus. The colorful banners in front had been replaced with white drapery, signifying that the house was in mourning. The sound of chanting and the hollow tap of the prayer drum could be heard from the street. She and Mingyu had just reached the front door when a dark figure at the street corner caught her eye. Constable Wu started toward her, looming larger with every step until she was hidden in his shadow.

      “Miss Yue-ying, if I may speak with you.”

      She glanced over her shoulder, but Mingyu had already disappeared into the Hundred Songs to join the other mourners.

      To her relief, Wu Kaifeng directed her to the nearest teahouse rather than the magistrate’s yamen, but it was difficult to relax with his iron gaze fixed on her. His height was exaggerated by his build, which was long and lean. His facial features were elongated as well, with an eagle’s nose and high cheekbones that tapered down to a sharp chin. He wasn’t an attractive man. He wasn’t entirely ugly either, but if she had to choose—she would say his face fit his position. It was an intimidating face, not one that evoked pleasant thoughts.

      The server brought two bowls of the house tea and Wu gave her a chance to take a sip before speaking.

      “I have questions about Lord Bai Huang. I understand you are familiar with him.”

      It

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