“I don’t have it.”
The sky seemed to crash down on her in that moment. Zhi Lan wobbled on her feet. “What?”
Shao Qing spared her a sideways glance. “I don’t know where the painting is.”
“Then did you sell it? So quickly?” Zhi Lan demanded. She had expected a quick errand. This was unprecedented.
“My superior has it. Perhaps he already sold it, perhaps not.”
“Your superior?”
He nodded.
Shao Qing was in a band of thieves! It was bad enough she had to deal with one. Now she had to face a criminalleader. This was exactly the sort of trouble Ma had thought she would get into in the city.
“Then we better hurry,” Zhi Lan said, hoping her voice didn’t waver. She’d much rather be paint shopping instead of following a stranger into a den of criminals. But this was all for Master Dan and to ensure that both of them would be able to secure their fortune—and make it out alive. “Where does your superior live?”
“I can’t share that information,” Shao Qing said. “It would be better if I went alone.”
Zhi Lan clenched her jaw. “I won’t tell anyone.”
“I can’t take your word for that.”
“I’m going even if it means you have to blindfold me!”
He seemed to properly consider this. Zhi Lan wanted to kick herself. She had quite literally volunteered herself to be kidnapped!
“There’s no need,” Shao Qing finally said. “If Yao catches any constables in his vicinity, he’ll take care of you himself.”
Zhi Lan recoiled at that. “Well...fine!” Couldn’t be worse than hanging in the gallows. “Lead the way.”
“As you wish.”
He headed down toward the ward gate that led to the rest of the city. Zhi Lan’s heart beat wildly in her chest as she showed the guards Lady Bu’s pass. She was half convinced they were going to take one look at Shao Qing and pronounce him a thief, but the guards merely gave the pass a cursory glance before letting them through. She nearly melted with relief and tucked the badge into her sleeve.
Zhi Lan was only vaguely familiar with Zhu City’s marketplace and the vicinity around Magistrate Bu’s manor. She and Master Dan had only been in the city for a week before Magistrate Bu discovered them. Shao Qing, however, seemed to know every nook and cranny like the back of his hand. He took strange paths, ducking through corner shops and weaving into shadowy alleyways. Zhi Lan clutched her bag to her chest and hurried after him, feeling somewhat like a criminal herself.
They came to the end of an alleyway blocked off by a door nailed shut by a cracked wooden board. Shao Qing found an invisible foothold on the surface and climbed up like a cat, jumping onto the other side.
“Why are we traveling like we’re guilty?” Zhi Lan panted, climbing onto a rickety pile of crates and barrels.
“You’re still here,” Shao Qing said from the other side. His head appeared from over the door as he straightened.
“Of course I’m still here!” Zhi Lan cried. “We agreed you would take me to Master Dan’s painting, or have you already forgotten that?”
Or he was deliberately trying to lose her. The scoundrel.
“Why does it matter so much? Let your master paint another one,” he said.
Zhi Lan lifted her skirts and stepped onto another crate, holding out her hand for balance. “He can’t just paint another one!” She knew her master well enough. Last night he hadn’t even attempted to lift his brush, as if he had already given up. “The magistrate explicitly said he wants an exact replica.”
“I don’t see how that’s not possible.”
“It can’t be replicated! Master Dan painted Shui Jin Mountain on site. The brushstrokes, the composition, it was all spontaneous! It came at a moment of inspiration.”
Zhi Lan wobbled, the crates creaking in protest. A firm hand grasped hers. Shao Qing guided her to the top most barrel—which reeked of vomit and alcohol—and Zhi Lan managed to step over and straddle the door. The floor on the other side was thankfully more elevated. She stumbled down. Unfortunately, she stumbled right into Shao Qing’s arms.
“It is only lines and ink, is it not?” he said, glancing down at her. “You copy the paintings and techniques of other artists. Why is it impossible to copy your own?”
