Zhi Lan looked around, raising her brows at the courtesans giggling and serving their patrons. “Why are you here so early? It’s broad daylight!”
Shao Qing took another swig of his wine. “There’s no place more fitting for me to be. I was born here. Maybe I’ll die here too.”
Zhi Lan grabbed the jar of wine from him, sloshing some on herself. She didn’t seem to notice. “Magistrate Bu is looking for a thief—well, he’s looking for you. You’re not safe here.”
“Magistrate Bu has already found his thief. The whole city knows.”
A crease appeared between her eyebrows. “What? That can’t be. He was intent on finding you just this morning.”
Shao Qing shook his head, but the action only made the room spin. “He must have found someone to take my place. I told you. He only cares to save face.” He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fingers to his temple.
“Does this place serve sober-up soup?” Zhi Lan asked. Her voice sounded far away.
“Yes, miss!”
“Get me a bowl, please.”
When Shao Qing opened his eyes, a courtesan came back with a bowl. Zhi Lan thanked her and set the bowl in front of him. Noodles floated in clear broth with sliced beef and a boiled egg. Zhi Lan thrust a pair of chopsticks and a soup spoon into his hands.
“Eat. Once you’re feeling better we can talk.” She looked concerned. Something about that was comforting.
Shao Qing obeyed. The soup didn’t taste like anything, but it was hot and soothed his throat. He was slightly less nauseated when he finished. “What do you have to say to me?” he finally said.
Her face was serious. “I think I’ve found your soul, Shao Qing. It’s been right under our noses. Magistrate Bu has it.”
Shao Qing sat very still. “How do you know it’s mine?”
Zhi Lan bit her lower lip. “I don’t. But there’s a chance it might be.” She looked at him hesitantly. “Are you willing to follow me and find out?”
This was different from her forceful speech the other night. Something had shaken her resolve, and Shao Qing didn’t know what.
“I’ll follow you anywhere.” He felt that they were the truest words he had ever spoken. Zhi Lan was like a rock in the middle of his ocean. He had never felt more awake than in her presence.
Zhi Lan’s cheeks turned pink. “Oh.” She tilted her head and leaned toward him as she inhaled, her lashes fluttering. “Did you...bathe?”
Shao Qing held his breath. The air around his neck felt hot. Zhi Lan was close enough that he could lift her chin and kiss her if he wanted to. The errant thought startled him.
Didhe want to?
“What’s this, Brother Qing? A scholar girl? Are they catering to all sorts of tastes now?” Nan You came noisily through the beaded curtain, then stopped before them. He whistled. “Not bad.”
Zhi Lan stood suddenly, rattling the table. There was a feral glint in her eye. “I donotwork here so cease gawping at me unless you want your eyes gouged out!”
Nan You raised his hands in surrender. “Apologies, miss.”
Zhi Lan brushed off her robes in disgust. “Men.”
Shao Qing stood too. “I’m leaving, Nan You. Tell Yao when he comes back.”
They left a sheepish Nan You behind them as they started for the stairs.
