She jumped, realizing that Shao Qing had said something.
“Sorry, I wasn’t listening,” she said sheepishly.
“I said you don’t seem excited about the prospect.”
“You can read minds now that you’ve got your soul back, hm?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You wear your heart on your sleeve. It’s not difficult to know what you’re feeling.”
Zhi Lan looked away, oddly thrilled with the idea that he knew her feelings and kicking herself for it. He was a magistrate’s grandson, and far above her station. Now he was even more unsuitable for her than when he had been a lowly thief.
“How long have you been learning from Master Dan?” Shao Qing asked.
“Almost a full year now.” Nearly one year since Zhi Lan had gone home. She wanted to return with the monetary rewards the marquess had given her, but what then? A part of her was disappointed in herself. She had expected to be further along her career at this point.
“Have you thought about finding your own patron?”
Zhi Lan fidgeted with her sleeves. “No. I’m not sure if that path appeals to me anymore.”
After the whole debacle with Magistrate Bu, she realized the drama and fickleness of bureaucrats were not to her taste. Nor was the prospect of being someone’s trophy artist, painting only what her patron wanted her to paint. Zhi Lan wanted to be an artist for herself. She figured she was better off selling in the street markets than pandering to one person in particular. Perhaps she’d finally muster up the courage to find a fan maker to mount her miniature paintings. If the common folk found joy in her artwork, that would be enough for her.
Zhi Lan had yet to convey this to Master Dan, but she felt that she would have to very soon.
“What if I become your patron?” Shao Qing said, breaking her train of thought.
Zhi Lan stared at him incredulously. “You? But you don’t even like art!”
Shao Qing grinned. “That was before I had a soul. Maybe now I have a ravenous taste for it.”
“I doubt it,” she said with a scoff.
“I’ll follow you anywhere you want to go,” he continued, echoing his sentiment from all those months ago. When he had first said it, Zhi Lan figured he hadn’t meant it. But now, with his eyes so dark and soulful, she couldn’t help but think he was earnest.
“I think I will go back to my village. It’s between two mountains. Very remote.”
“That sounds nice.”
“I’d like to paint rivers and mountains, like Master Dan. I’ll need someone to grind ink for me.”
“I’ll be happy to.”
“I’ll make you carry all our bags.”
Shao Qing nodded. “I’m strong enough for it.”
Zhi Lan threw him an exasperated look. Surely he was teasing her.
“You seem to have objections,” Shao Qing said. “I know I was rough and rude and offended you countless times. But I can change, if that’s what you want.”
Zhi Lan wondered at this comment. What could he possibly mean by it? “Don’t be ridiculous. I like you as you are.”
A hesitant smile spread across his face. “You like me?”
She turned away before she smiled back. “Why do you insist on leaving here? Don’t you want to enjoy your new life for a bit?”
From the corner of her vision, his smile faded. “I’m grateful for it, of course. But I’m afraid it doesn’t suit me. I...don’t feel like myself.”
Zhi Lan supposed Shao Qing was used to doing as he pleased and traveling from one place to the next. He must have missed his freedom. But surely he didn’t prefer the life of a thief over what he had now.
