I press harder between her shoulders. ‘The very one.’
The ghost lies unmoving at my feet, finally silent.
‘Good. You’re learning nicely. Now get up.’
She rises from her knees, head bowed, trembling like a wet mouse. One slice of the blade is enough to end her existence. No reincarnation, no Madame Meng tea to wipe away her mortal memories, no Naihe Bridge to take her on to whatever new life awaits her. Everything she is, everything she could be, finished, with one clean swipe. The power is intoxicating.
‘Hold this.’ I shove the sword at Mr Lee as I need both my hands. He takes it and holds it like I’ve given him a firecracker with the fuse already lit. ‘It’s fine. Just don’t drop it.’
The mortal stays as still as the ghost.
I focus on the leather holster, and finally untangle it from my waist, before handing the thing to the waiting ghost. Mr Lee is only too happy to relinquish the sword back to me.
‘With the authority vested in me by the sword of Hell, I, Lady Jing, bid you bring this to the Cathay Hotel reception.’
The ghost bows low. Clutching the holster, she backs away. When she is a good distance from us, she turns and runs. I watch her to see whether she does as I ask. Huh. She does indeed turn into Cathay Hotel. I grin with all my teeth. The flames licking the blade flare sky-high before settling back to a gentle flicker. With this kind of Please-Fuck-Off energy, I could absolutely get used to carrying the sword on a permanent basis.
Mr Lee runs a hand through his hair, making his thick locks stick up at all angles. Looking at him, I realise why the ghost didn’t see Big Wang’s warning mark.
‘You need to keep your hair off your forehead,’ I tell him. ‘Otherwise it hides the protective stamp. Big Wang should have stamped your whole face.’
He gingerly touches his forehead. He looks at me, really looks at me. The intensity of his gaze makes me squirm, like he’s somehow exposing my deepest secrets. I’m about to bring up some hork to spit in his eye, when he holds his elbow out to me.
‘Shall we?’
I stare at his arm.
‘It’s how Western gentlemen walk with ladies.’
‘They hold their elbows out?’ I frown. ‘It seems quite an uncomfortable way to walk.’
He smiles gently. ‘Ah no, the lady holds the gentleman’s arm.’
‘They touch?’
‘Very lightly.’
‘Why?’
‘I suppose the lady holds the man’s arm for balance. Shoes with elevated heels are very popular in the West. It’s considered good etiquette for a gentleman to offer his arm to a lady. I often saw this when I walked in the parks of New York.’
I’ve heard of New York, and the famous goddess of Liberty. Patron saint of doing whatever the Tian we wished. For that alone, I would love to visit the new world.
I eye his outstretched arm. Denizens of Shanghai did not walk in this manner – ladies linking arms with strange men. Horsey would faint if he saw me pawing a man like this. I consider the scandalous outcry; it gives me a gleeful rush, and then I’m annoyed. Because the outcry is such an overreaction. It’s not like the mortal hasn’t already been up close and personal with me all over – I’ve carried him on my back. Over my shoulder like a sack of rice. I mean, he’s technically kissed my ass, though I still had my silk tap pants between him and bare skin. He’s seen both my bare legs and most, if not all, of my butt. Stupid, hypocritical propriety.
I sneer at him. ‘I am perfectly capable of walking without assistance,’ I say, and stride towards the Custom House, leaving him behind me, scrambling to keep up.
We pass a few more early risers. Another white-robed ghost passes us, eyeing Mr Lee. I’m full of prickly fire, bursting for a reason to unsheathe my sword, but the ghost bows her head and gives us no trouble. I swing the sword around my head. The hilt and blade are perfectly balanced and it makes a satisfying whistle as it slices through air.
‘You seem to have really taken to that sword,’ Mr Lee says.
‘I named it Mafan,’ I say.
He huffs a quiet laugh. ‘In that the sword is troublesome to you, or that it makes trouble for others?’
‘Mafan for others, of course. I’m gonna use it to scare Lady Soo.’
The smile drops from his face. The glare he gives me reminds me strongly of Horsey. ‘You aren’t supposed to go near the hulijing. You promised Big Wang.’
