Zhi Lan shuddered when she recalled the meeting. It was a lucky thing Lady Bu had come to her rescue. “Nothing,” she said, not wishing to share this with him. It was too soon and too humiliating.
“Did the magistrate give you that bruise?” Shao Qing asked from his corner.
Master Dan furrowed his brow at this. “Bruise? He laid his hands on you?”
Zhi Lan felt like shrinking. “I’d rather not speak of this, Master Dan.”
This seemed to tell him all he wished to know. “Zhi Lan. Don’t be ashamed,” Master Dan said gently. “If anyone should feel shame, it should be the magistrate. And me. You are under my care. I’ve done you a disservice by putting you at the mercy of a dishonorable man.”
Tears suddenly stung Zhi Lan’s eyes. She had thought that she had composed herself already, but evidently not. Her vision blurred, rendering the image of her dear master to a white blob. “I-I...”
“There, there child. Don’t cry,” he said, standing to pat her hand. “I think it’s time that we leave this place.”
“Leave?” Zhi Lan sniffed and wiped her eyes. “But he’s our patron!”
“He’s a brute and an immoral man,” Master Dan said with a firm shake of his head. “I had suspected, but it’s never been clearer now. I daresay you’ve suffered much on my behalf. I won’t allow it to go on any longer.” His gaze softened. “This is why I wanted you to go home, child. This life isn’t safe for you like it is safe for me.”
“But Master—”
“No one harms my student,” Master Dan said firmly. “I will speak to his lordship before the day is done.”
Zhi Lan stayed silent, not wishing to be the cause of Master Dan making such a drastic decision. She had offended Magistrate Bu that morning. If anything, she should be the one to leave. Master Dan could still benefit from his patronage. Still, Zhi Lan knew her master was not the sort of man who only cared for his own gain. She was touched by his concern for her and grateful for his gentility. There were not many men like him.
“Perhaps we can talk about this later,” Zhi Lan said reluctantly. “But first, I brought Shao Qing here because...”
Master Dan nodded. “Ah, yes. I remember.” He turned to Shao Qing. “May you find your soul, young man.”
Shao Qing bowed again. “Thank you, sir.”
After waiting for the servants to pass, the two of them slipped quickly into the art room.
Zhi Lan closed the door behind her softly. “It’s in here.” She was still discomfited from earlier, but forced herself to calm. It wouldn’t do to get distracted now. She had brought a thief into the magistrate’s manor, and she needed a clear mind to get him out without notice.
The room was as she had seen it last, a cluttered collection of precious treasures, each one stacked on top of another.
Shao Qing gave a low whistle. “Impressive.”
They passed the crowded walls of paintings and calligraphy. Zhi Lan mourned that none of them would ever be appreciated as they should. It was clear now that Magistrate Bu did not admire art—not truly. It was only a symbol of status and wealth to him. What a waste for such a collection to belong to such a man.
Zhi Lan recalled that the magistrate’s steward had placed the painting on a circular shelf in the far left corner of the room. She went there now, pulling Shao Qing with her, then stopped abruptly.
It had also been the corner full of bawdy artwork.
Zhi Lan’s cheeks heated when her eyes flew over the silk screen that depicted the couple underneath the willow tree. What had it been called?
Scenery of the Spring Palace.
Shao Qing raised an eyebrow at the screen. “If this is what you wanted to show me, we could have stayed at the pleasure house.”
“This isnotwhat I wanted to show you,” Zhi Lan whispered harshly. She felt warm all over. She turned to the shelf in front of her, rummaging through the many scrolls, bronze sculptures, and jade statuettes. “Help me look, will you?”
He obliged. They opened each scroll, revealing paintings of tigers and forests, bold calligraphy and classic poems. Zhi Lan didn’t bother being neat when she put the scrolls away. She had a feeling the magistrate did not frequent his hoard as often as he had people think.
Shao Qing’s hand closed around a scroll at the very bottom shelf. He stilled.
Zhi Lan knelt on the floor beside him, her eyes wide. “Do you feel something?”
“I think so,” he said, his voice hoarse. It was the most emotion Zhi Lan had ever heard from him.
