“Why not?” Zhi Lan asked.
“Ah, this you don’t know,” An Qin said. “Magistrate Bu and Magistrate Li have a public feud, you see. The two magistrates were academic rivals back in their scholar days, always attempting to outdo each other.”
“I don’t see how this pertains to the issue.”
An Qin leaned forward eagerly, as if she had been waiting for ages to relay this piece of gossip to new ears. Shao Qing himself had heard the story too many times to count. “The current Lady Bu is Magistrate Li’s eldest daughter.”
Zhi Lan nodded, still looking confused.
“She is his favorite child. Magistrate Li originally wanted a more advantageous marriage for her, but he was bound by a promise his father made to betroth Lady Bu to Magistrate Bu. The late Master Li liked Magistrate Bu. But the current Magistrate Li did everything he could to subvert the marriage. It was all for naught, however, and only worsened their rivalry.”
Zhi Lan blinked. “I see.”
An Qin tsked. “It was said after the marriage had taken place, Lady Bu sent a letter home saying how she hated living in Zhu City, and how Magistrate Bu wasn’t kind to her. But the letter ended up in the hands of a gossipmonger and soon everyone in both cities knew. Magistrate Bu was incensed when word got back to him—quite shameful to have one’s dirty laundry aired out. So he made it a point to make his manor identical to Magistrate Li’s, if only to put on a show that he dotes on his wife. He had all the carpenters in the city occupied for months. He heard Magistrate Li was a great admirer of art, so Magistrate Bu began his collection too.”
“I was under the impression Magistrate Bu began his art collection in his student days,” Zhi Lan said, looking surprised.
“Pah. That’s only what he claims. He acquired his taste for art only to outdo Magistrate Li.”
“But that’s so childish!” Zhi Lan exclaimed. She seemed drawn into the story now, her eyes widening ever so slightly.
“Exactly!” An Qin crowed. “There’s nothing better than grown men engaging in petty disagreements. It is food for the soul, I tell you.”
Zhi Lan laughed, the sound bright, like a silver bell.
“There is, however, a rumor,” An Qin said, dropping her voice to a whisper. “They say Magistrate Bu crossed the line.”
Zhi Lan leaned forward. “How so?”
“Twenty years ago Magistrate Li’s eldest son had produced a child. His first grandchild! But on the night of its birth, the baby disappeared.”
Zhi Lan gasped. “You don’t mean to say Magistrate Bu kidnapped Magistrate Li’s grandchild!”
“If it’s true, it’s indeed terrible,” An Qin said solemnly. “But Magistrate Li’s family never confirmed or denied. It’s a rather embarrassing thing, for such crimes to fall upon a magistrate’s family and go unsolved. Perhaps it is only a wild rumor.”
Zhi Lan frowned, her lower lip sticking out in a slight pout. Yao nudged Shao Qing’s arm. “Stare any longer and you’ll wear a hole through her head,” he said in a low voice. Then in a louder voice before Shao Qing could respond, he said, “So you see, young miss, Magistrate Li will never willingly give up an item he procured from Magistrate Bu.”
Zhi Lan furrowed her brow. “But...why would a magistrate want stolen goods?”
“Injustice runs rampant even in those who enforce justice, young miss,” Yao said. “I myself supply Magistrate Li’s stolen art. He’s a willing buyer. But ifyouwant to steal it back, you’re welcome to do so.”
“Who said anything about stealing?” she asked in a bewildered tone. “The paintingbelongsto my master. I only want it back. You can help us, can’t you, sir?”
“Stealing is the only way you’re going to get it back,” Yao said firmly. “I certainly won’t offend my wealthiest client by retracting a sale.”
Zhi Lan bit her lip, her eyes darting from Yao to Shao Qing to the sketch on the table.
Shao Qing was convinced she was going to burst into tears. But to his surprise, Zhi Lan asked, “Where does Magistrate Li live?”
A slow smile spread across Yao’s face. An Qin threw up her hands.
“Oh, look at you, corrupting an innocent girl,” she said. “I can hardly sit back and watch.”
“You should’ve thought of that before we married, my treasure,” Yao said.
An Qin threw up her hands again. “I’ll be in the kitchen!” She cleared off the bowls on the table and went past a rough-spun curtain to the adjoining room.
Yao turned back to Zhi Lan. “I will help, young miss.”
