18 – Zhi Lan
Shao Qing had a nearpsychotic fit, kissed her in a most wanton manner, then fainted right onto her lap.
Scoundrel.
Never mind that she rather liked it.
Zhi Lan regarded the unconscious Shao Qing, her mouth still burning and her breath still short from his kisses. He had tasted like chrysanthemum wine, heady and aromatic. And if she wasn’t mistaken, hehadbathed. He smelled like fresh clothes and some sort of woodsy soap. His hair was slightly damp beneath her fingers.
She sat very still, considering what just happened. She was sure he had only been momentarily overtaken by ardor and she just happened to be the first woman he set his eyes on. It made sense. Who knew what he had been in the middle of before she found him in the pleasure house? Having his soul back probably amplified such desires.
Zhi Lan had to admit that passing curiosity was the reason for her consent. She had never been kissed before, and Shao Qingwasa handsome man. But that kiss! It was as if he had been making love to her with nothing but his mouth.
Her face flamed at this thought. She couldn’t tell who had taken advantage of whom.
With some effort, Zhi Lan pushed him against the wall again so he was slumped upright. She patted his cheek. “Hey.”
He didn’t stir. Zhi Lan gingerly held a finger under his nose, relieved when she felt him exhale. He was still alive, at least.
She considered what to do. She could go get Master Dan. But she confessed she didn’t want to think about her master after what had just happened. Besides, how was an elderly man and a girl supposed to drag an unconscious thief out of the room without notice?
It wouldn’t do. The only way Shao Qing was getting out of this manor was on his own two feet.
Zhi Lan tucked two arms underneath his armpits and strained to stand. She managed to lift him to his knees before hers gave out. Skies, he was heavy!
She looked toward the door uneasily, worried that someone would come in and see them.
Impatiently, Zhi Lan shook Shao Qing’s shoulders. “Wake up.”
His eyelids twitched, but did not open.
“I have a headache,” he murmured.
“Let’s go back to my room,” she said, taking his arm. “Can you stand?”
Shao Qing stood very slowly, as if he were an old man with brittle bones. He still didn’t open his eyes.
Zhi Lan pulled him forward. Shao Qing stumbled headlong into the circular shelf. It was a decorative piece of furniture that didn’t have much heft to it despite being stacked full of scrolls and treasures.
It teetered precariously backward. Zhi Lan gasped, running to the other side to prop it up—but it was too late. The contents of the shelf crashed to the ground in a deafening cacophony.
Exclamations sounded from outside. The door to the art room burst open.
“What is going on here?” Magistrate Bu bellowed, dressed in his official’s robe and hat.
Zhi Lan froze.
Shao Qing chose that moment to vomit the contents of his stomach ontoScenery of the Spring Palace.
***
“ATERRIBLE CRIME HASbeen committed beneath my roof!” Magistrate Bu cried.
They knelt on the cold stone floor before the magistrate, who was seated behind an elevated desk. His presence loomed over the hall lined with guards standing at attention. Each of them held a long bamboo rod, ranging from heavy to light—a reminder of the inevitable punishment to come. Beside the magistrate’s desk stood his secretary, who kept his head bowed as he recorded the proceedings.
