She smelled faintly of jasmine soap and pu’er tea. It was a pleasant scent. Shao Qing found himself inhaling deeper. He couldn’t remember the last time he had smelled something nice so acutely.
They stayed there for a good few minutes as the magistrate’s guards searched the room, the silence punctuated by occasional thumps. A pair of footsteps sounded closer.
“That will be all, miss,” the guard said from somewhere at the head of the bed.
Miss Nong gave a sleepy grunt. Shao Qing imagined she looked quite comfortable on the outside, belly down and cocooned in a generous mass of blankets.
In reality, most of that mass was him, and her limbs were tangled awkwardly with his. The late spring heat made the air stifling. She was all sharp elbows and knees. One of which was jabbing into his sternum most uncomfortably.
It felt like an eternity before the footsteps faded and the doors creaked shut. Miss Nong finally removed herself, releasing Shao Qing from the suffocating bedding. He sucked in a breath of air.
“Did they feed you chicken feed on the farm?” He rubbed the sore spot on his sternum.
Miss Nong’s face twisted in confusion. “No, I had rice like everyone else.” Then she mumbled something under her breath that sounded very much like, “Skies, is he crazy too?”
She straightened her clothes and sat back, watching him as he stood from the bed.
“Much thanks. I’m afraid I’ve disturbed you long enough.” He clasped his hands and bowed, then turned to the door.
“Sleep here tonight.”
Shao Qing turned back and raised a brow at the slight, rumpled figure on the bed. “I’m flattered, Miss Nong. But I’m afraid I’m not interested.”
“I don’t meanthat,you scoundrel! How do I know you’ll keep your promise and return Master Dan’s painting?” she demanded.
She wouldn’t. Because he had no intention of keeping that promise. He didn’t know where her master’s painting had gone, and even with his newfound range of feelings, he realized he didn’t care. Yao had taken off with it. And knowing how efficient the thief lord was, it would be sold first thing in the morning.
“I gave you my word,” Shao Qing said.
“The word of a thief means little.”
Shao Qing considered his options. Either way, the girl had no power over him, despite what she may think. He could agree to stay but sneak out in the middle of the night. Or he could stay in earnest and see through the bargain.
In a span of a few minutes, Shao Qing had felt more than he had felt in years. There was something about Miss Nong that affected him. Perhaps he was close to his soul. And perhaps she’d be able to lead him to it. It was an intriguing prospect, even if he didn’t care too much for the end result. He was not opposed to an adventure, seeing as Yao and the gang would likely be lying low for some weeks. Besides, he was tired of running. At least for tonight.
He nodded. “Very well. Where do I sleep?”
***
SHAO QING SLEPT ONthe floor. Despite the warm evening, Miss Nong had bundled up in her bed until she resembled a lump more than a girl before saying a brusque good night.
The floor was hard and Miss Nong hadn’t given him a pillow, but at least he had somewhere secure to stay until the morning.
Shao Qing closed his eyes and dreamed the same dream he had for six years.
He was a dragon. His scales shimmered gold, his claws gleaming a deep sapphire blue. Through soft, hazy vision, Shao Qing saw his tail sink into an open scroll. Silk. He struggled to move, but a dark, suffocating force sucked him in, compressing his body into line and ink. He only caught sight of a gilded scroll rod before darkness pressed down on him. Then he stayed there, sightless and frozen. Aware, yet unable to move.
Shao Qing knew the dream would go on that way, a night of infinite numbness.
But tonight, the dragon writhed and twisted between painted clouds.
