Mistress Li returned to the worktable, where she finished chopping leeks for dinner, the thump of the cleaver sounding like an executioner’s ax. It was normal, and yet everything about Xiatang felt wrong somehow. Unease crawled along the walls of my stomach, sending a warning I couldn’t decipher.
“Would you like some tea?” Feilin asked. The flickering light emphasized the gauntness of her cheeks, and I wondered again at the shared frailty of the town.
“Please don’t trouble yourself,” I said. “We don’t intend to stay long. You were telling us about Master Zhang?”
Feilin nodded, hesitant. “Five months ago, when the soldiers came, Master Zhang was out in the fields beyond the gate. He suffers from insomnia, so it isn’t unusual to find him wandering during ungodly hours. Unfortunately, he chose the worse night to be there. He was the first to be killed by the soldiers.
“The watchtower alerted us all to the danger that was coming. We raced from our homes and crowded in the streets, anticipating the need to flee. But the soldiers never touched our gates. Before they could, Master Zhang had already sent them all into the pond.”
“I thought Master Zhang was killed,” I said.
“The spirit,” Ren reminded me softly.
I blinked. Of course. I’d been so focused on the details of Feilin’s story that I’d nearly forgotten the reason we were in Xiatang. A dreadful suspicion prodded my mind as I questioned the connection between the spirit and the listless townsfolk.
“You’ve heard the rumors, then,” Feilin said, looking at Ren. “It’s true. Our town is haunted by our former leader’s spirit. But he isn’t evil. He protects us.”
“He killed an entire platoon.” Ren arched a brow. “No matter his reasons, those deaths are on his hands.”
“We would’ve died without his help,” she retorted, defensive.
“What about the families of those soldiers? Surely they were innocent, as you are.”
I placed a hand on Ren’s arm before he could say anything too damning. His argument wasn’t entirely wrong. In any kind of battle, someone was always left to suffer; it’d be unfair to pretend every violent action was just.
But we were here to seek help, not make enemies. And the last thing Ren needed was to seem like a loyalist in a town full of residents hurt by his father.
“I understand your gratitude toward your town leader,” I said, addressing Feilin. “We came to request his aid as well. Do you know where we can find his spirit?”
“You came to see Master Zhang?” Feilin’s annoyance dispersed as she stared at me. “Whatever for?”
“That’s a rather private matter. But it’s urgent.” If my suspicions were correct, the town needed my help as much as I needed theirs. But I wouldn’t make any judgments until I had proof.
Feilin looked at Ren again, wary. “You’re not here to punish him, are you? Can ganshi priestesses do that? Torture a spirit, I mean?”
“No,” I said. “I can’t. I’m not here to inflict pain. If anything, I’ve come to bring Master Zhang peace.”
“I thought you neededhishelp.”
“It’s a… mutual proposition.” I smiled, patting Ren’s shoulder. “Despite my companion’s earlier comments, we’re not here to punish anyone. We’re here to benefit both sides.”
“What of my husband?” asked Feilin. “Will you help him too?”
“Yes,” said Ren, surprising us both. I cast him an inquiring look, but his gaze remained fixed on Feilin. “Perhaps I spoke insensitively, but that doesn’t mean I condone what happened to the men in this town. Since it’s a royal decree that prevents their bodies from returning home, I promise to change that law by petitioning the king myself.”
I studied Ren, something like admiration warming my chest. He was undeniably attractive when he spoke so sincerely and with such conviction, nothing like the boyish jokester I was accustomed to.
“How are you confident that he’ll listen?” Feilin said, bringing me back to my senses. “He never has, and neither will his officials.”
Ren hesitated. “I… spent a lot of time in the palace. The king knows me.”
Feilin exchanged an uncertain look with her mother across the room.
“He used to work there,” I said, thinking quickly. “As a painter. The king commissioned his work often.”
Hope lit up Feilin’s ashen face. “Really? Then perhaps youcanchange His Majesty’s mind.”
“Of course,” said Ren, nodding very seriously. “But first we need your help in locating Master Zhang.”
