The Lotus Palace. Jeannie Lin

before leaving the temple. She saw that Huilan hadn’t gone far. The courtesan was standing at the foot of the nearest bridge. The sun caught the reddish streaks in her hair as a young man in scholar’s robes approached her.

      Yue-ying ducked her head and kept on walking to give Huilan her privacy. The temple was known as a place where scholars and candidates congregated, and it was a popular place to meet and gain new admirers.

      As she traveled along the outer edge of the market to return home her way was blocked by a sizable crowd that had gathered along the canal. Although she was expected back at the Lotus, Mingyu might be pleased to have some gossip at hand to spark conversation with her visitors. Yue-ying ducked and elbowed her way through to the front to see what was going on.

      Down below, a man stood beside a boat that had been pulled out of the water. He wore the uniform and headdress of a constable and towered over the other men. She was close enough to see his face, which was unfamiliar to her. He had an austere and unpleasant look about him. Not a man one wanted to see angry.

      Whoever this was, he was new to the ward. Perhaps brought in by Magistrate Li, who had been appointed just before the new Emperor took the throne. The constable gestured to the other men in uniform, who moved quickly to follow his command. She was so eager for information about the tall stranger that it took her a moment to realize why the magistrate’s enforcers were gathered in the waterway.

      There was a body lying in the boat at the edge of the water. An arm poked out from the length of canvas draped over the vessel and the skin covering it was black and rotted.

      CHAPTER TWO

      THE DUANWU FESTIVAL took place on the fifth day of the fifth month. An hour after sunrise, the dragonboats were already moving into position for the traditional race down the Grand Canal. Bai Huang stood at the keel of one of the colorful vessels as it floated toward the starting dock. He enjoyed the warm breeze over his face and the marsh and mud scent of the water, which he always associated with this city.

      It was summer, the banquet season, and he was finally back in the capital of Changan, surrounded by all its grandeur. Twenty-five pairs of rowers lined the boat, operating the oars in unison. They pulled at a leisurely pace to conserve their strength. Huang stood where the drummer would be seated. He enjoyed the quiet of the morning as the crowds began to gather on either side of the river.

      As they neared the dock Huang spied a figure moving among the tethered boats. Yue-ying, the industrious little maidservant. She did manage to show up everywhere, didn’t she? Unlike the courtesans of the quarter, she didn’t seem confined to her house. He had seen her dodging carts in the market, running to wine shops, even hauling drunken patrons of the Lotus Palace onto sedan chairs after a particularly long night.

      She’d done so once for him last autumn. He’d attempted to flirt with her even though she was only a servant because he figured it was expected of him. The fool Bai Huang lacked shame or manners, but he made up for it with good looks and money, so he was tolerated.

      The girl had treated him like a sack of potatoes that night. After that, Huang had made a point of trying to catch her eye, but she couldn’t be charmed. She couldn’t be bribed. He was fascinated.

      Today she wore a pale green robe, the color almost nonexistent and only there to keep the dress from being white. She tried so very hard to be nondescript, to disappear, but her face was likely the most recognizable one in the quarter.

      The birthmark over her left cheek was a swirl of dark red. It ran down her face and along the line of her jaw, stopping just short of her chin. Her complexion otherwise was fair, highlighting the stain even more. It was as if an artist painting her had started to form the shape of her mouth when he’d inadvertently splashed red ink over the paper. He then left it there, finding the stain created a spark of drama beyond mere prettiness. Like finding a bloodred peony among the snow.

      “Little Moon!” he called out. The rowers kept up their rhythm, moving him closer to the dock and to her. “Little Moon, over here.”

      By the third time he called, he was certain Yue-ying had heard him, but was making a concerted effort not to turn a single eyelash in his direction. She continued speaking to the drummer of the yellow vessel while her hand rested on the carved dragon’s head. She straightened her fingers momentarily, issuing a silent signal for him to go away. Stubborn girl. It had been over a week since his social misstep of speaking directly to her in Mingyu’s company. Surely he should be forgiven by now?

      “Yue-ying, don’t be angry,” he pleaded, laughter in his tone. The boat glided slowly past her and he had to walk down the length of it toward the tail just to keep her within shouting distance. “Come and let me apologize properly.”

      She turned. The look on her face was pure exasperation, but it didn’t matter. He’d won a small victory.

      The sweep steered the boat toward its assigned spot on the dock and the rowers lifted their oars and let momentum carry them the last stretch. A dozen boats were laid out along the canal, each one carved and painted like a celestial dragon from head to tail. By the next double hour, the officials would assemble to start the race.

      Yue-ying stood on the dock, looking down at him. A vermilion sash circled her slender waist, in contrast to the muted colors in the rest of her dress. Her hair was arranged to fall over one shoulder, leaving one side of her face and neck exposed. The unmarked half, he noted with interest.

      He remained in the boat while the crew disembarked to stretch their legs and rest before the starting gong. Yue-ying stepped aside to let them pass, watching them go before returning her gaze to him.

      “What are you doing out here so early, Little Moon?”

      “Please do not call me that.”

      “It’s just an endearment. Between friends.” The first character of her name was “moon”. He thought it nominally creative of him.

      Her eyes narrowed on him. “If you insist on making trouble for me, I will have to leave. Lord Bai.”

      The honorific was clearly added only as an afterthought. She was getting quite bold for the servant of a servant, he thought with amusement.

      “Miss Yue-ying,” he corrected obligingly. “Please forgive me.”

      She appeared to accept his humble offering. “I’m getting an accounting of the dragonboats for Lady Mingyu. In case anyone wants to discuss which one she thinks will win.”

      “Very clever! Your mistress sent you out here to do that?”

      “I thought it might come up. How is your crew feeling today, might I ask?” She looked the boat over from head to tail as she spoke.

      “Strong as the west wind,” he boasted.

      “Will you be rowing as well?”

      His chest might have puffed out a little. He smirked as she tried to assess his physique, the calculations clicking in place inside her head. Yue-ying had been completely indifferent to his appearance before then. Did she judge him a strength or a handicap in terms of the rowing?

      “Ah, I would be nothing but added weight. I’ll be placing a few of my own wagers and watching from a comfortable place away from the sun,” he admitted.

      “Well.” She angled a sly side-glance to her left. “Definitely bet against the orange dragon, then.”

      “Oh?” he asked, intrigued.

      “And Chancellor Li’s boat, the blue dragon, was just constructed last month. He wanted to have the most magnificent vessel in the water, and he will, but that dragon head looks awfully heavy.”

      “And who will win?”

      “Green,” she said without hesitation. “And perhaps gold.”

      “Why those two?”

      She shrugged. “I like the colors.”

      Her eyes were alight with