“Hm, who’s there?”
Zhi Lan grabbed a fistful of Shao Qing’s robe.
“Your bath is drawn, my lord,” a servant’s voice came from outside.
“Ah. I’ll be there in a minute.” Shuffling ensued from behind the screen.
Shao Qing held his breath. Zhi Lan was still clinging onto him like her life depended on it. He felt the press of her forehead against his neck.
A short chuckle came from Magistrate Li. “Ah. An excellent painting.”
Then, more shuffling and grunts.
It seemed an eternity before they heard the magistrate’s heavy footsteps.
“After you, my lord,” the servant said.
A soft whoosh of wind blew into the room, bringing in warm afternoon air and lifting Zhi Lan’s scent to Shao Qing. He turned his head ever so slightly, his nose brushing against her hair.
His heart beat faster.
The door shut and the footsteps faded, leaving the room in silence. Shao Qing touched Zhi Lan’s back, intending for the gesture as a sign to get up. But his hand lingered, splaying over the dip of her waist. He was suddenly aware of the slight curves pressed against his chest and the weight of her hips on top of his. He had never found such things pleasing, but this...
Zhi Lan lifted her head, her delicate brows furrowed in question.
She mouthed a series of silent words. Shao Qing wasn’t sure what she was saying—only that the pink of her lips was the most vibrant color he had seen in a while.
She suddenly smacked his chest. “I asked is it clear?” she hissed.
Shao Qing paused. Then nodded.
Zhi Lan removed herself from his person immediately, her cheeks flushed the same pink as her lips. He sat up as she slipped around the screen to where Magistrate Li had been a minute earlier. Shao Qing followed without thinking. All he knew was that he wasn’t quite done looking at her yet. He wondered what had gotten into him.
Zhi Lan unfurled the scroll which Magistrate Li had closed before leaving, her face flooding with relief. “It really is the one,” she said, clutching it to her chest and letting out a sigh. Her eyes seemed to shine when she regarded him. “Thank you.”
Shao Qing nodded. He wasn’t sure whether the sudden rush to his head was due to the theft, or...
His gaze strayed past Zhi Lan’s shoulder. A small scroll hung from the wall, the image catching his eye.
A painting of a dragon among clouds.
Shao Qing was walking forward before he knew it.
“What are you doing?” Zhi Lan hissed.
He unhooked the painting and studied it. The dragon had floating whiskers and sapphire claws, its mighty body twisting between wisps of mist. Nothing marked it as any different from the other dragon paintings he had come across.
But Shao Qing had never felt this way around any of them.
What if his sudden rush of emotions hadn’t been because of Zhi Lan? What if it had been his soul, calling to him? Perhaps it had known she would lead him to it, which explained why he’d been drawn to her.
A shiver ran down Shao Qing’s spine as Zhi Lan grabbed his forearm. “I hear footsteps,” she said in a panicked voice. “Let’s hide. Or better yet, let’s go.”
He rolled up the dragon painting and tucked it into the pouch at his waist.
At that moment, the door swung open and Magistrate Li stepped into the room. His gaze locked on Shao Qing with odd familiarity.
“Wen Jun?” the magistrate said in confusion. “How did you...?” Then his gaze fell on Zhi Lan, and the scroll clutched in her hand. His eyes widened when he looked back at Shao Qing, this time with alarm. “You’re thieves!”
