The Sword Dancer. Jeannie Lin

before his expression became hooded.

      ‘Not very high quality,’ he said, affecting a tone of ennui. ‘I can give you twenty cash and that’s generous.’

      Did he think she was a child of three? ‘It wasn’t my intention to sell. There is an inscription on the back of the jade that I was told someone here might recognise—’

      He shook his head and pushed the jade back to her. ‘That is my final offer, young miss.’

      This sort only cared about the number of coins in his drawer at the end of the day. Perplexed, Li Feng picked up the pendant and wove around the counter. She ignored his squawk of protest as she pushed through a beaded curtain.

      An elderly craftsman sat at a table in the workroom in back. He was busy polishing a statuette of a dragon with a pearl in its mouth. He paused to look up at her with mild interest while his hands remained poised over the pale-green stone.

      ‘Honourable sir,’ she began. ‘If you would kindly look on the back of this pendant. I was told by the jade carver in Quantou village that you might be of assistance.’

      He looked her over just as the shopkeeper had, but the craftsman took the jade and turned it over in his hands with care.

      ‘Nanyang jade,’ he proclaimed. ‘The carving depicts the Vermilion Bird. Most likely part of a set of four.’

      Her heart thudded with excitement. She had indeed seen three others in the same style and with the same inscription on the back, an inscription she didn’t recognise. Bao Yang had noticed her strange look when they had sifted through the stolen treasure. He had offered the set of three to her as a gift as they had been at odds at the time. It always seemed that they were in disagreement about one thing or another during their brief liaison.

      Li Feng had no interest in any of the riches from the heist. Bao Yang’s rebellion against General Wang had started to appear more and more like a personal feud. Coming across that set of jade had been fate, if one believed in such things.

      The old man held the pendant up, squinting at the corner. ‘The artist inscribed it with his name.’

      Li Feng leaned in close, waiting as patiently as she could to hear more, but instead of continuing, the craftsman glanced up at her.

      ‘I know who you are.’

      ‘You do?’ Her pulse skipped and her deepest dreams beckoned from the shadows. Maybe this man had known her family. She was about to find the answer to a riddle. To her riddle. Where she came from. Who she was.

      ‘You stole this,’ he accused.

      Her hope shrivelled to dust. ‘I didn’t steal it. It’s mine.’

      The craftsman ignored her protest and started shouting for the shopkeeper. Li Feng darted forwards to snatch the jade from his fingers before hurrying out the front door.

      The street outside was thick with activity. Painted signboards marked each shop and wares were displayed out in the street to entice customers. She slipped into the crowd, matching the shuffling pace of those around her though her heart pounded insistently, telling her to run. At any moment, she expected to hear the merchant from the jade shop shouting after her. ‘Thief! You stole it!’

      But he was wrong. This jade pendant was the one thing that belonged to her. Her mother had put it into her hands with her final parting words. ‘Don’t cry, Xiao Feng. Don’t cry.’

      Little phoenix, don’t cry. Those hadn’t been words of comfort. Her mother was giving her a desperate plea and a warning. Li Feng remembered that she and her mother were running from someone, but she couldn’t remember why.

      Her current hideout was a hovel a short distance from the main road. The roof was missing shingles and the wooden structure was overgrown with moss. Such a place had once provided shade, drink and a convenient place to rest one’s horse on the journey between cities. Now it provided her temporary shelter from the wind and rain.

      Li Feng took care before returning. She held back and led her horse on a meandering path through the woods outside the city until she was confident that no one followed her. The sun was setting as she ventured back to the abandoned tavern. This stretch of road had become a hunting ground for bandits, according to local gossip, and was treacherous for travellers day or night.

      Ever since her arrest, Li Feng had sought out shelter in deserted areas or in not-so-legitimate establishments where she could avoid the scrutiny of law enforcers. She had borrowed, or rather liberated, the horse from a courier station. A woman travelling alone was vulnerable to all manner of danger. She needed to be able to move swiftly.

      Her master had wandered through the province before settling in the foothills of Wudang Mountain to meditate and dedicate his life to seeking the Tao. He had learned how to fight to survive against bandits and had passed on those skills to Li Feng as well. A sword was difficult to conceal, so she carried knives for protection. Li Feng slipped one into her hand as soon as she dismounted in front of the tavern. She needed to be inside with the door barricaded before nightfall.

      Li Feng brought her horse to the hitching post and removed the saddle before tying him down. She entered through the back door to find the main room dark and still. There were a few benches and tables left behind, mostly broken. She shut the doors behind her and fitted the wooden bar into the latch.

      The scant daylight that remained filtered in through the empty panes of the windows. The paper that had once covered them had long crumbled. She would sleep here for the night and tomorrow she would find shelter somewhere else. Maybe there was another jade artisan nearby who would be willing to help her.

      Li Feng felt through the darkness to find where she’d set her oil lamp. She used her tinder pouch to light the wick. As her eyes adjusted to the glow, a shuffle of movement sent her heart racing.

      She reached for her knife just as an immense weight slammed into her, tackling her to the ground. The knife clattered out of her reach.

      She knew what, or who, it was, even before she saw him. She knew from instinct and reflexes and the tension in her muscles as they encountered an unmovable barrier. That bastard thief-catcher’s weight was on top of her.

      Struggling for breath, she jabbed him in the side, aiming a pinpoint strike against his floating rib. His body jerked at the impact, but he recovered quickly to grab at her wrists.

      Her back was against the ground. Blood pumped through her muscles, feeding the fighting instinct within her, but she had no leverage. There was no power behind her strikes. Still Li Feng fought with everything she had. She needed to try to break his hold somehow. She wrenched her hand free to claw at the soft part of his belly—except it wasn’t soft on him.

      ‘She-demon,’ Han cursed with a grunt.

      She had some good names for him too, but she wouldn’t waste her energy. He threw his forearm across her chest while he groped for something just out of reach with his other hand. The rattle of chains made her blood run cold. She renewed her efforts, twisting beneath him, but it was no use. The cold snap of metal over her wrists took the fire out of her.

      For now.

      He didn’t get off her immediately. Fear choked her as his hand curved over her waist. Instead of tearing her clothes open, he felt around her sash, her sleeves, then checked her boots where he finally found her other knife. She didn’t know whether to feel relief or anger as he threw the weapon into the corner. She felt both.

      ‘Surrendering already?’ he gritted out.

      She had gone still beneath him, first from the fear of being violated, but now because she needed to conserve her strength and think. There was little she could do while he pinned her. Han was too strong, but if he let down his guard now that she was chained—

      The thief-catcher ended that thought by grabbing a rope and coiling it around her wrists. He secured her arms to her sides for good measure, wrapping the length around her torso. She thought he might cocoon her like a silkworm, but he knotted off