“No, I like it just by the sound of it. But now I’m curious. What does it mean?”
His lips twisted in self-deprecation. “Triumph or victory, especially in scholarly pursuits.”
Esther nodded, a satisfied smile breaking over her face. “Just as I thought, it suits you, for I have no doubt you will triumph in anything you set your mind to.”
CHAPTER 7
DespiteEsther’sunflinchingfaithin him, he was not triumphant in everything. In fact, his failings were greater than his victories. Wang only had to look around him in this neighborhood to see reminders of his biggest failure of all.
He was also failing miserably at controlling his feelings for her.
As he pushed her wheelchair out of the tearoom they had visited today, he almost regretted having to leave the cozy atmosphere. And it wasn’t because of the food, although it had been excellent. It was her company. Something had blossomed between them, nourished by the way Esther savored every dish, her curiosity about his culture, about him, and his unquenchable attraction to her
At some point between the therapies and these intimate meals that had become customary over the past few days, they had reached a new level of intimacy.
Being here was bittersweet, the joy of speaking his native Cantonese and being among his people overshadowed by the signs of opium addiction he saw in many of the faces.
Opium dens abounded in this part of town, stealing the lives of the poor souls who fell victim to deceiving lure of the devilish substance.
He tried to help them. While he waited for Esther to change after being in the pool, he used the time to speak to people. Gave them medical advice when needed. Prescribed herbs and treatments. He also spoke to them about how to break opium addiction if he observed it was a problem. The latter advice wasn’t always welcome, regardless of his offer to help, and his reassurances that, once the first few terrible days passed, there was light and hope on the other side.
He had even made a few house visits, returning in the afternoons and evenings, to treat those who needed more help. Had he been successful? Most likely not. Those addicted needed a lot more help than he could provide during a few brief visits.
He turned the corner toward their parked carriage, and three men stepped from a doorway’s shadows into their path. They wore low hats that obscured their eyes and unfriendly snarls on their faces.
Every protective instinct Wang possessed went into high alert, preparing him for a fight.
“Well, if it isn’t the good doctor and his aristocratic cripple,” the one in front, who appeared to be the leader, said in Cantonese.
“I don’t want any trouble. Just let us through, and we’ll be on our way,” Wang replied in the same language.
“Thinks he’s better than us, hobnobbing with the aristocracy, bringing a white lady to our neighborhood, talking to people about opium. Trying to take our business away,” said the second one.
“I have nothing to do with you or your business,” Wang said in the calm voice used to pacify a feral animal.
“Probably talking to the police as well,” the third one in the group said. “He’s probably a rat, scurrying in here to ferret out our secrets and then bring the coppers down on us.”
“I am certainly not going to talk to the police,” Wang replied with conviction.
“Of course not. Because we won’t let you,” the leader said.
While the man still spoke, the other two charged.
Even as he cursed himself for a fool, not realizing that bringing Esther here would put her in the path of danger, Wang’s trained reflexes took over. He jumped in front of her to protect her. Muscles tensed, mind cleared and focused, his body centered and ready.
Fighting multiple combatants at the same time was the ultimate challenge. Doing it while also protecting someone made it all the more difficult, but he would prevail. He had no choice but to do so, for he wouldn’t let these ruffians harm a hair on Esther’s head.
Estherbarelyhadtimeto cry out before the ruffians lunged toward them. She didn’t understand a word of the preceding conversation, but it wasn’t difficult to deduce by the tone that it wasn’t a friendly one.
Wang had valiantly stepped forward, placing himself firmly between her and the advancing men. A glint of steel flashed in the light, freezing the blood in her veins. Good God, they had a knife.
But Wang moved like a liquid shadow, twisting away from the blade with a speed that defied belief. His arm shot out, a single strike sending the attacker staggering back, clutching his ribs with a strangled grunt. After that, everything was a blur of fists, kicks, seemingly impossible acrobatics and fluid movement. This was the fighting technique he had talked about. It was beautiful and deadly. A lethal dance. The attackers knew it, too. But Wang was faster, surer. He met them with an elegance that was almost hypnotic.
The fight was swift and brutal, and yet Wang remained in control. He caught a wrist mid-strike, twisting it with a sickening crack, sending its owner to his knees with a pained cry. Another came at him from behind—she tried to shout a warning, but Wang had already ducked, sweeping his leg in a clean arc that sent his foe sprawling onto the cobbles.
Within moments, it was over. The three men groaned on the ground, beaten, broken, but alive. Wang stood above them, breath steady, his eyes sharp as flint.
Esther’s heart pounded as if she had been the one fighting. She stared at Wang, her voice trembling. “They…they knew what they were doing, didn’t they?”
