Silk, Swords And Surrender. Jeannie Lin

      Lian was among them, a face perhaps a little more familiar than the rest. She was merchant Chen’s daughter, and the Chen family were his closest neighbors. Lian had her eye to an opening in the garden wall while the other girls giggled around her. The odd thing was that Lian—sensible, serious Lian—was giggling along with the rest of them.

      “Now, this is a sight these eyes have missed,” he announced.

      The ladies scattered like peach blossoms in the wind as he approached, only to regroup with a fresh round of giggling.

      “Baozhen!”

      “You’re back.”

      “Did you bring me anything?”

      The last voice was the quietest of them. “You’re home early.”

      Little Lian was blushing when he looked at her. The last time he’d seen her had been on the day of his departure. She’d come out to her front gate to wish him a safe journey, wearing a blue robe the color of a clouded sky. Odd that he’d remember that now.

      Her father had a formidable reputation in the East Market. He’d cleverly negotiated lucrative deals with foreign traders from the northwest and had a reputation for being able to procure anything. Chen was a serious businessman, with no tolerance for fools, and his daughter was the same. Lian never blushed. Baozhen simply had to see what was on the other side of that wall.

      “What could have everyone so distracted that they’d forget to greet an old friend?” he accused lightly as he went to the aperture.

      “Oh, just the new object of our admiration,” one of the girls teased. “You’ve been away for so long we’ve all but forgotten you.”

      A chorus of voices agreed. They really were pretty little songbirds and, as always, he appreciated the attention. He had grown up with them. There was always some infatuation or another among them. It was with curiosity rather than jealousy that he searched out the figure through the wall.

      “Liu Jinhai?”

      More giggling.

      Jinhai was flamboyantly dressed as usual. His father dealt in textiles, and Jinhai never gave up an opportunity to display his wardrobe. He was probably on his way to the drinking house. Baozhen might even join him later.

      “I’m wounded.” Baozhen grinned as he faced them. “For a couple of bolts of pretty silk you’ve forgotten me.”

      “No!” they cooed.

      “Never.”

      “He’s not as handsome as you.”

      One girl took his right side and another quickly swept in to take his left. Lian remained apart, looking upon the theatrics somewhat impatiently.

      “When did you return?” she asked.

      “Yesterday evening. I was actually coming to pay your family a visit for tea.”

      As entertaining as the cooing and flattery was, Baozhen shifted into conversation with his neighbor and the others took the hint. They flitted away to other diversions.

      His family managed several transport routes to the cities of the southern provinces. This last trip had taken longer than usual as it had been time for him to learn the routes and meet their many business associates.

      “I had heard you wouldn’t be back for another month at least.”

      Lian seemed subdued, and much less enthusiastic than the others about his return. Something else seemed to occupy her thoughts.

      “I missed being in the city,” he said.

      They fell into easy step beside one another, making their way down to the lane where their families resided. Lian was looking straight ahead and he took the opportunity to scrutinize her a little more closely. She seemed somehow...different walking beside him. Something about the way she carried herself.

      Baozhen broke into a smile. “I missed you, as well,” he added as an afterthought.

      She didn’t show any response to the casual flirtation. Instead she smoothed her fingers through her hair, tucking the left side neatly behind her ear, and continued inquiring about his journey and the state of his father’s business.

      He should have known better. This was the child with the dirty knees who’d run wild through the alleyways in pigtails. The girl he’d teased for being bony and the one who’d thrown crab apples at his head whenever he’d done so. They were too familiar for any tantalizing innuendoes between them.

      And he hadn’t really missed Lian while he’d been away. Well, he hadn’t exactly thought of her much, but now that she was here beside him maybe he had missed her. Was it possible not to know how much you’d missed someone until you saw them again?

      “Is Liu Jinhai an acquaintance of yours?” She was looking away again, occupied with straightening her sleeves.

      Baozhen frowned. “You could say.”

      “Hmm.” She made a soft, noncommittal sound beneath her breath that he would spend the rest of the day trying to interpret.

      He went on talking about Hangzhou. The lushness of the forests and the great West Lake. Hadn’t Lian been excited that he was going to these faraway places? When she’d bade him farewell, the way she’d regarded him, with eyes shining and full of wonder, had made his chest puff out. She was only the skinny neighbor girl, but she was still female, and female admiration was not something to be shrugged aside.

      But Lian was barely paying attention to him now that she wasn’t so skinny anymore. Her eyes had taken on that faraway look again and her cheeks were tinged pink.

      “Baozhen.” She interrupted his tale without remorse. “We’re longtime friends, aren’t we?”

      Lian’s midnight-dark eyes were finally fixed on him and he was reminded of another time when she had approached him so directly. An unexpected knot formed in his throat.

      “Of course,” he said casually, with a smile that he found he had to force. He who was so careless with his smiles. Who was notorious for them.

      “Can you introduce me to him?”

      “To who?”

      She blinked away from his gaze, batting silken lashes that were longer than he remembered. Heaven, everything was different from what he remembered.

      “You know who,” she said impatiently. “Liu Jinhai.”

      * * *

      Baozhen barked out a laugh, and Lian didn’t have anything to throw at his head besides a poisoned look. His skin was a shade darker, turned copper by his travels in the sun, and he did appear more worldly—though that was likely her imagination. She could see his boyish behavior hadn’t changed.

      “Did you just remember an old joke?” she asked, glowering. “Because I haven’t said anything funny.”

      “Since when do your attentions follow the whims of that flock of songbirds?”

      “I don’t pay any attention to what the others are fawning over,” she protested. “For instance, now that you’re back they’ll likely return to swooning over you. I find Liu Jinhai interesting, that’s all.”

      Baozhen stopped short, forcing her to halt and turn back to him. “Interesting?” he challenged with a quirk of his mouth.

      She lifted her chin stubbornly. “Yes.”

      His eyes creased at the corners as he regarded her. That was twice he’d paused to look her over. Lian glowed inside with triumph. Finally Baozhen was the one who was confused and trying to figure her out.

      She had known him for as long as she could remember. Their families lived side by side, with only an alleyway separating them. When the neighborhood girls had started gossiping, and calling Baozhen handsome, Lian had stared at him, eyes squinted,