14 – Zhi Lan
Zhi Lan showed theguards at the manor gate her badge from Lady Bu, which luckily survived the ordeal at the pond. She was let in without comment.
In the courtyard, servants rushed to and fro, preparing for the evening meal. No one paid her any mind as Zhi Lan slipped into her room.
She was relieved to find everything as she left it.
Zhi Lan quickly changed into clean clothes. Regretfully, there was no time for a bath to wash the pond scum off of her skin, so she settled with splashing her face and raking a comb through her hair. After grabbing the cinnabar brown pigment she had bought and the ruined painting of Shui Jin Mountain, she knocked on Master Dan’s door that adjoined her own room.
Her heart was at her throat as she waited.
What if he wasn’t there? What if Magistrate Bu had sent him to the gallows, or shut him up in some sort of torture chamber? Her poor, scholarly master would never survive such cruel tactics.
Her racing thoughts quieted when Master Dan’s voice came from within.
“Come in.”
Zhi Lan exhaled and pushed the door open.
Master Dan sat behind his desk, a brush in hand and a painting before him. His white robes were neat and there wasn’t a hair on his head out of place. The sight was so comforting and familiar she almost wept. It felt like an eternity since she’d last seen him.
He raised his eyebrows at her entrance. “Zhi Lan. I thought you finally listened to me and left.”
“I would never leave you, Master Dan,” Zhi Lan insisted, stepping over the raised threshold. “I told you I was running an errand.”
He smiled at her, as if he were not surprised by this. “Come here, then. Tell me what you think.”
She approached his table, her eyes falling on the painting he was working on. “Oh!”
Upon the silk was a near replica of his original painting of Shui Jin Mountain, from the sloping rocks to the frothy white waterfall.
“You’ve done it,” Zhi Lan said in a hushed voice. She knelt across from him. “But...I thought it was impossible!”
“Anything is possible when one’s life is on the line,” Master Dan said, his eyes sparkling. It sounded like a jest.
Zhi Lan ducked her head. Suddenly, she felt extremely foolish. “Magistrate Bu didn’t give you a hard time when I was gone, did he?”
“Ah, him? His tantrum is ongoing, but nothing terrible has befallen me. I can handle a few glares and curses,” her master said. “He did ask whereyouwere, though. I told him you were running errands for me. I presume that’s only half true?”
Zhi Lan fidgeted. Heat blazed her cheeks. The ruined painting in her hand felt heavy and useless.
Master Dan waited patiently for her to say more.
Zhi Lan should’ve known that Master Dan would’ve been fine on his own. She hadn’t considered the possibility that Magistrate Bu’s threat was merely a passing comment made in anger. He was the most powerful man Zhi Lan had ever met in her life. How was she supposed to know whether he meant his threats or not?
All this time, she could have very well stayed and helped Master Dan with his painting instead of going on a wild goose chase with Shao Qing. She had been convinced that following the thief was the swiftest option to set things right.
