Ma and Ba told her to stop lingering on such thoughts.
“Why bear the guilt? You didn’t cause the drought. Unless you are secretly the Dragon King and withheld rain from us,” Ma had joked. She placed her hand on her belly in a sad, wistful sort of way. “This child was not meant to be. Perhaps it will find us in its next life.”
“No daughter of mine will be a concubine to some lecherous old weasel!” Ba exclaimed. “We villagers work for everything we have. We reap our own rewards. We bear our own losses. Hold on to that pride, Lan’er.”
Guilt was like an ink stain on a white sleeve. One could wash most of it away, but traces of it would still linger. Zhi Lan had learned to forgive herself, to stand with her principles. To be proud, like her Baba said.
But grim thoughts always lurked in the back of her mind. How long could she continue on as a painter’s apprentice, hardly making any income at all? What if her pursuits crashed and burned and there was no other path to take? She would’ve been better off marrying that nobleman after all.
And now look where my principles have brought me, Zhi Lan thought dryly, stopping before the walls of Magistrate Li’s manor. They had made it back a little before noon. The passersby were sparser than before. Shao Qing shook out the green bundle in his arm, revealing two roughspun robes.
“Why green? Isn’t black standard for thieving?” Zhi Lan asked.
“It’s daytime. Black is as conspicuous as white. Green will blend into the foliage.” Shao Qing offered the smaller one to her.
Zhi Lan held the fabric up to the willow tree sticking out of the walls. “But this isn’t even the right shade!”
Whereas the willow leaves were bright and sprightly, the robes Shao Qing had picked out were a dull olive.
“I can’t tell,” Shao Qing said.
Zhi Lan huffed and shook her head. Being angry at him was a waste of energy. Besides, what didheknow of being a woman? She slipped on the olive robe and tightened the fabric belt. Shao Qing did the same.
The front gates of the manor creaked open. Zhi Lan scrambled back, her heart leaping to her throat. Shao Qing placed a hand on her shoulder and steered them to the adjacent wall, where they could peek out without being spotted.
“Don’t act guilty before you’ve committed the crime,” he murmured into her ear. The gesture was unintentionally intimate.
Zhi Lan tried not to notice how his breath tickled her cheek. “This isn’t a crime,” she whispered back. She was technically taking back Master Dan’s painting on his behalf. It was justified. But the longer she stood there, the less it felt like justice.
The guards at the gate were chatting with a group of servants. Zhi Lan was too far away to hear what they were saying. Shao Qing squeezed her shoulder.
“Let’s go,” he said.
“Go where?”
He looked up. Zhi Lan followed his gaze.
“Over the wall.”
