“I hope not. It’ll hold up the traffic.”
Shao Qing considered this. A thief was caught, yet it wasn’t him. Had it been someone in Yao’s group?
His musings were answered when sometime later, Yao himself bustled through the front doors of the bathhouse along with half the gang. They approached just as Shao Qing was getting out of the pool.
“Why this sudden obsession with hygiene, Brother Qing?” Wei asked, sitting himself noisily on the damp bench beside him.
Nan You gave a low whistle as his gaze dropped. “Nice dragon, Brother Qing. Not so little after all, huh?”
Shao Qing covered himself with his towel.
Yao, Xuan Bo, and Nan You joined Wei on the bench.
“You owe us a story, eh?” Xuan Bo leaned forward and clasped his hands on his knees. “Tell us how the heist with your girl went.”
It appeared that Yao had told everyone about Shao Qing’s excursion to Magistrate Li’s manor. They were all curious about how it had gone, and about his new “lady friend”.
Shao Qing didn’t indulge them. He pulled on his clothes. “I heard Magistrate Bu caught his thief. Allegedly he turned himself in.”
This seemed to surprise them all.
“Really?” Wei whispered, his eyes wide. “It isn’t one of us, as far as I know. It might be a trick to let our guard down.”
“Or his lordship truly means to wash his hands of it. Why not grab any old fellow and pin the blame on him? It’s a classic ploy for any magistrate to avoid a demerit and save face. It’ll appear like a just, swift sentencing,” Yao said.
They all sat there, contemplating.
Shao Qing wondered if the sudden whirlwind of events of the last few days had finally come to an end. Magistrate Bu was no longer pursuing him. Zhi Lan had her painting back. Well, herruinedpainting. He wondered if she was alright. Would she find him again, like she said? Or was she in trouble and trapped in the magistrate’s manor?
The thought bothered him. It would be idiotic to go back to check. Yet...
Nan You thumped Shao Qing’s back. “Brothers, let’s go to The Peony Pagoda!”
“But it’s so early,” Wei said, appalled.
Nan You smoothed a hand over his goatee. “Perhaps you’re too young to know, little Wei, but a man can enjoy wine and women at any hour of the day.”
“Well, I suppose itistime for breakfast. Their dishes are not bad,” Yao conceded. “What do you say, Brother Qing?”
Shao Qing nodded. He had nowhere else to go, anyhow.
“Wei, you had better stay behind,” Yao said. “You’re too young for these vices.”
Wei frowned and sulked, but eventually left.
Shao Qing followed the rest of the men to the place of his alleged birth.
***
MOST MEN DRANK TO NUMBthemselves. Shao Qing drank to feel something.
It didn’t signify that the only thing he felt was ill and hot in the face, but it was better than the odd, dull ache in his chest. Some sort of forlorn longing, as if he wished to relive last night, when Zhi Lan had ranted at him—not to argue over some principle they disagreed on—but for his well-being. When had anyone ever done that?
Yao sat across from Shao Qing at a small square table. The other two were seated in an adjacent chamber, separated by beaded curtains behind which several courtesans cooed and giggled over them. Yao was ever loyal to his wife, but he frequented the pleasure house to chug their wine, which he claimed was one of the best in the city. Shao Qing couldn’t taste the difference.
“So. Howdidit go?” Yao asked in a low voice.
“It was successful, but unsuccessful,” Shao Qing said.
