Shao Qing sat a little apart from the rest of the thieves in the forest clearing, leaning against a thick stalk of bamboo. The others were gathered in a circle around a crackling fire, chortling and slapping each other’s backs in boisterous celebration. In their midst, Yao shot him occasional glares between gulps of chrysanthemum wine.
Shao Qing figured the thief lord would take him aside for a heady lecture in a minute. He studied the duck leg in his bowl drenched in a rich, dark sauce. The dense meat tasted like ash in his mouth. Still, he ate.
Finally, a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. Shao Qing looked up to see Yao glowering at him from beneath bushy brows.
“A word, Brother Qing.”
Shao Qing set his bowl down and rose slowly from his seat. The others carried on, too drunk on wine and their own egos to notice Yao and Shao Qing step behind a cluster of overgrown bamboo.
“Is there a problem?” Shao Qing asked, knowing full well that there was.
Yao’s face was red and splotchy from the alcohol, but his words were sharp enough. “What were you thinking, exposing yourself so recklessly?” he demanded. “In a magistrate’s manor, of all places! That man could have you hanged with a flick of his pinky finger!”
Shao Qing shrugged a shoulder. “I didn’t get caught.”
“Yet!” Yao bellowed.
“I never get caught.”
Shao Qing had once slipped a jade bangle off an old woman’s wrist without even rustling her sleeve. He had helped her up after she stumbled over a strategically placed twig. Thehe tianjade was warm in his palm before the old woman had finished thanking him. Yao had been impressed enough by that, lauding him as swift, decisive, and steady. It was the theft that had earned him a spot in the gang.
“Younever get caught but someday you’ll getuscaught,” Yao said. “You’re too reckless. Too cocky. Magistrate Bu may be a poor thief catcher, but you cannot count on his shortcomings to protect yourself.”
Shao Qing had yet to have his abilities proven wrong, so he said nothing.
Yao pointed a meaty finger at him. “Everyone else has the sense to listen to me and follow caution. We do this to build a life for ourselves. This is all we petty thieves have! What’s important to you, Brother Qing? Chasing the next high? Provoking ill-fortune and slipping away again just because you can?”
Shao Qing’s gaze drifted past Yao’s shoulder. These days the bamboo forest looked more gray than green.
It’s getting worse, he thought. He supposed he should’ve been alarmed, but even that had deserted him.
Yao made an irritated noise. “Is there a single thought in that brain of yours?”
“Apologies. I was distracted.”
The thief lord shook his head. “Magistrate Bu’s manor. Honestly! You’re lucky that painting you took already has an interested buyer. We can’t hold onto it for much longer if we want to keep our necks.”
Shao Qing clasped his hands and bowed. “You work impressively fast, Elder Brother Yao.” He knew the man was easily placated by respect and praise, if not proper remorse. Shao Qing was not feeling particularly remorseful.
It had been far too easy to infiltrate Magistrate Bu’s manor during his banquet. His guards were careless, their senses dulled by celebratory drink, gone soft with the idea that no one would dare steal from the city magistrate. The entire gang had gone over the walls with no misstep. It would’ve been too routine to stay under Yao’s cautious command. Shao Qing would’ve been numb to the entire heist.
Snatching the painting from the magistrate’s own banquet table before an audience of shocked spectators had made his heart race and heat flood his veins. Shao Qing had felt weightless, like an immortal floating on clouds, as if something had awakened within him when he passed those manor gates.
“If you jeopardize us again, I’ll have no choice but to kill you,” Yao said darkly. “I have children to feed, for heaven’s sake!”
It was an empty threat and they both knew it. He punched Shao Qing’s shoulder and rejoined the group.
Yao was an odd combination of sentimental father and hardened criminal. He often liked to moralize about respect and filial piety, as if he were the head of a wealthy household instead of a group of immoral riff raff who would do anything for coin. Some of the thieves were like him and had relatives to feed, but the rest were exactly what Yao thought Shao Qing was—youths who indulged in vice and recklessness for the sake of it. They were wasting their lives, whereas Shao Qing’s had already been wasted.
He rubbed his shoulder—the pain had already dulled—and headed back to the clearing where the rest of the thieves sat. Their black robes were stark against the blazing fire in the center.
“Eat well, brothers!” Yao called out, already in a better mood. “We’ve earned it tonight!”
The men cheered.
As Shao Qing returned to his seat, someone sidled up to him.
“How do you do it, Brother Qing? Jump in like that without a care?” Wei asked breathlessly, his too-large eyes glimmering with awe. He was the youngest in the gang, no more than fifteen and as skinny as a mantis. “I thought that stunt was going to land you in prison!”
