***
THE NEXT MORNING, MAGISTRATEBu summoned them to the parlor.
Master Dan and Zhi Lan went immediately after breakfast, bearing the finished replica of Shui Jin Mountain. Zhi Lan was as nervous as she had been three days ago when she had first stepped foot in the magistrate’s manor—though this time, it was for an entirely different reason.
Just as they passed the threshold of the parlor, Zhi Lan caught a glimpse of the door that led to Magistrate Bu’s art collection. Her heart beat a little faster when she thought of what could possibly be inside. She’d have to look into it later. And maybe in the afternoon, she’d make some excuse to go out and find Shao Qing.
“Your lordship,” Master Dan said, bowing low.
Zhi Lan scrambled to do the same.
Magistrate Bu was reclined on a cushioned chair, watching a maid pour him tea. “Ah, Li Chen. I see your little apprentice is back.”
Zhi Lan lowered her head, keeping her gaze downcast.
“I apologize for her sudden absence,” Master Dan said. “Zhi Lan was fetching paint for me. I’m very particular about the type I get.”
Magistrate Bu was silent as he swirled his tea. “You have what I asked for?”
Master Dan stepped forward and offered the replica scroll to him. The magistrate took it and unfurled it slowly, his narrowed eyes assessing the picture as it revealed itself.
“Very good,” Magistrate Bu said at last. He looked up, smiling. “Now all that is left is to find the thief who stole from me. I hope to have this matter solved today.”
Zhi Lan blinked. A part of her had thought he would let it go once he got the replicated painting in his hands. But she realized how naive that was. It wasn’t about the painting at all. It was about the magistrate’s pride. His position. He needed to make an example of those who stole from him.
“Who accompanied you during your errand, Miss Zhi Lan?” Magistrate Bu said, suddenly addressing her.
She grew cold. “No one, my lord.”
“No one? That’s unusual, for a young woman.”
“I’m from a farming village. Very few of us need accompaniment on errands.”
Magistrate Bu sipped his tea. “According to my guards, you left with a male servant of mine.”
Zhi Lan wanted to kick herself. Shao Qing hadn’t gone unnoticed after all.
“Forgive me, your lordship,” Master Dan cut in. “My student is merely confused. She had not much rest and—”
Magistrate Bu held up a hand. “Leave us for a moment, Li Chen. I wish to speak with your student alone.”
Master Dan frowned, throwing Zhi Lan a concerned look. She nodded ever so slightly, telling him that she’d be fine. It was a bold faced lie—she was panicking. But she didn’t want her master involved in whatever this was.
Master Dan bowed and exited the parlor, leaving Zhi Lan and the magistrate alone. She realized that the servants had inconspicuously left in the middle of the meeting. Every muscle in her body tensed.
“Straighten up, my dear. No one likes a wilting flower.”
Stiffly, Zhi Lan straightened. She kept her gaze on the floor.
Magistrate Bu stood from his seat, his silk robe rustling as he walked in a slow circle around her.
Her breathing grew shallow as his pristine shoes stopped inches before hers.
“You are a very tempting thing, you know?” Magistrate Bu purred. He reached out, tugging a strand of hair behind her ear.
Zhi Lan flinched away. The magistrate withdrew, chuckling.
She clenched her jaw, equal parts dismayed and terrified. Magistrate Bu was exactly who Zhi Lan suspected he was from the beginning—a sick bastard who liked having women at his mercy.
