grain of rice. When adrift on endless roads, one never knew when the next meal would be.
It was late into the evening now and the sounds of the village outside the prison house had quieted to a murmur. The constable would be off to his bed. The night watch, if there was one, would be settling in for their vigil. She could hear the sound of muted voices through the wall. The poor members of the dance troupe who’d had the misfortune of being in her company.
Li Feng waited a little longer. It was difficult to exercise such patience when trapped as she was. Once she was certain the sky was dark outside, she stood and wrapped one hand around the other. She pushed at her knuckles and shifted the joints beneath the ring of iron. After some twisting, she tugged her hand free. The other manacle quickly followed. She dropped the heavy chain at her feet and blew out the lamp, leaving the cell in complete darkness.
Chapter Two
After escaping from the prison house, Li Feng was forced to leave her companions behind. The thief-catchers and constables would be searching for a dancer so she thought it best to stay away from the performance troupes she typically travelled with. Besides, her quest was now a personal one.
Li Feng approached the jade shop as she did all the others—with a sense of hope. An artisan in the last village had directed her to this mid-sized town, indicating that the shop here was a successful one that would know more about the type of piece she was interested in.
It was only a few hours until the closing of the market. Soon after that, evening would be upon her and she needed to be in a safe location for the night. A woman on her own had to be careful of these things.
There were two worlds beyond the solitude of Wudang Mountain. There was the realm of the cities, an orderly and structured place separated by walls and governed by law. A gong dictated what time merchants were to bring their wares to market and when to close up shop and go home. Then there was another world alongside it. A place of roads and dust and dark city corners that didn’t adhere to the same boundaries. The inhabitants here were dancers and musicians, monks and beggars. This was also the world where smugglers and bandits operated.
An unspoken fellowship existed among those that travelled the roads for the sake of both companionship and protection. When Li Feng left her shifu, she had met up with a dance troupe that travelled from village to village. Sword dancing had become popular with the crowds, and with some practice she had executed one that was entertaining enough that the performers welcomed her into the fold.
With the dance, a part of her had reawakened. Mother had been a dancer, she was certain of it. Li Feng had a memory of her in colourful costumes: a princess in mourning, a flying goddess, a flower bearer. Li Feng could almost hear a firm, but gentle voice from long ago, telling her to hold her head high and keep her back straight, her toes pointed.
She also remembered travelling with her family as a child. They would sleep under a different roof every night or sometimes beneath the stars with Mother curled up beside her. She had had a father, too, but his face was blurred and faded like all the others in her memory. She was afraid that if she didn’t come back and reclaim her own past, one day her mother’s face would fade as well.
When she had joined Bao Yang in his campaign against the warlord, that struggle had momentarily taken the place of her determination to find her family. She had nothing tangible to connect her to the past except for a few vague descriptions of hills and rivers from Wen shifu and a jade carving that her mother had pressed into her hands.
A carving that had been a complete mystery to her until now.
The inside of the jade shop was undecorated other than the figurines and trinkets gleaming on the counter. The shopkeeper who greeted her was also dressed in a plain brown robe. No one trusted a shopkeeper who looked like he made too much of a profit.
‘Miss.’ His respectful tone tapered off as he eyed her up and down. He was likely accustomed to wealthier customers and her plain tunic failed to impress.
Li Feng glanced over the array of bracelets and finery. She had been in so many of these shops in the last days that she was nearly an expert herself.
She pulled out the carved pendant from her sash. ‘Sir, can you tell me more about this?’
It was an oblong tablet that fit easily in the palm of her hand. A magnificent bird was carved on to it, with wings spread in flight. A red tassel adorned one end. Years of being kept close to her body had changed the creamy jade to a deeper, richer colour.
The shopkeeper held the pendant up and his eyes lit momentarily, just long enough for her to catch the interest in them, 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
