part of the province where he ruled through intimidation. He and Tan had been plotting for a long time how to stop the warlord, but Yang hadn’t told the magistrate the real reason he wanted General Wang dead. A reason that went much deeper than personal gain or political rivalry.
That bastard had owed him blood. It wasn’t a moment’s impulse that had Yang sinking the knife into the general. It was a matter of family honour and a promise he’d made to himself as well as a cold and wandering spirit long ago.
‘Was it worth it?’ Tan asked quietly.
Yang regarded his accomplice. The magistrate was older and in many ways shrewder. He kept his secrets close and rarely revealed his intentions. Tan also preferred to remain safe in the shadows.
‘I wanted to look him in the eye,’ Yang confessed. ‘I wanted Wang Shizhen to know he was going to die and why.’
He had succeeded in sinking his knife into the warlord’s chest, but the satisfaction was only momentary. General Wang had survived the attack and would exact vengeance.
‘A mistake, my friend,’ Tan said with a sigh. ‘After months of careful planning.’
‘We’ll create another opportunity. Wang Shizhen has other enemies. We’ll find them.’
Magistrate Tan regarded him wordlessly, taking full measure of him with a keen eye. As the silence continued, an uneasy feeling gathered along Yang’s spine. The magistrate had already made things clear—this show of emotion was a weakness. Yang forced his hands to unclench.
‘I came back because I need your help. Wang has issued orders for my capture, but he won’t stop at that.’
‘I don’t see what I can do for you.’
Yang swallowed his pride. ‘I need your protection. Not for myself, but for my family.’
What family he had left. The war had begun. There was a time when General Wang had thought Yang was completely under his thumb, but now the truth was out.
‘We knew what the consequences were if we failed,’ Tan replied. ‘Your best option now is to flee. Get as far away from the general’s stronghold as possible.’
The magistrate was very careful with words. It didn’t escape Yang’s notice that Tan hadn’t yet answered his request. Tan Li Kuo had co-ordinated the attack through coded messages from hidden meeting places. No one aside from Yang knew of his involvement.
‘Are we no longer friends then?’ he asked warily.
The question itself was a falsehood. They’d never been friends. Tan was the most powerful ally he had, but he could also be a formidable enemy.
Tan held his gaze for a long time. Too many people mistook the lack of sharpness in his rounded features as a sign of dullness, but they couldn’t be more wrong. The magistrate used those assumptions to his advantage, often taking on a cheerful, careless manner, yet he made no effort to portray such an image now. A deep line formed between his eyes.
‘I am very disappointed,’ he remarked finally.
‘As am I. It was the difference of a finger’s length. Life and death.’ Yang downed the rest of the wine and set his cup on to the table in agitation.
Tan hadn’t touched his drink the entire time. ‘Not about Wang Shizhen. You speak passionately of your family, Mister Bao. Yet what of my family? There’s still the question of my daughter.’
‘Your daughter?’
The moment after the question left his lips, Yang regretted it. Apparently that matter wasn’t closed. ‘I sincerely apologise for any impolite behaviour on my part.’
‘Impolite is a rather mild way of putting it.’ The magistrate’s frown deepened. ‘There were too many eyes at the park today to keep the incident quiet.’
Yang cursed himself for being so blind. He had misread the official’s growing displeasure as apprehension over the failed assassination plot. But Tan Li Kuo was a father who had just found his daughter in a scandalous position. Family honour would always come first.
‘She is my only daughter. To have her shamed so publicly is unacceptable. There is only one acceptable resolution. A gentleman such as yourself must see it as well.’
Tan couldn’t possibly be suggesting...
‘But there’s a price on my head,’ Yang protested.
‘To the north,’ the magistrate replied coolly. ‘Wang Shizhen holds no authority here.’
Yang hadn’t realised how dangerous his situation was until that moment. He needed Tan’s protection to keep his family safe, but worse than that, he himself was completely at Tan’s mercy.
He had publicly insulted the magistrate’s daughter and there was only one way for Tan to save face. All in all, it wasn’t the worst of solutions. It would tie the two of them closer together, and Yang needed a powerful ally. And having the lovely Jin-mei as his wife was hardly punishment. Maybe fortune was still smiling on him.
‘If the magistrate would allow this unworthy servant to make amends...’ Yang took a deep breath, letting the turn of events sink in ‘...may I ask permission to marry your daughter?’
* * *
Jin-mei stabbed the needle into the handkerchief and set it aside. ‘Must we spend all day embroidering?’ She pressed her hands to her lower back and attempted to stretch. ‘We’ve been here for hours. My back hurts. My eyes hurt. Even my fingertips hurt.’
Lady Yi, her father’s wife, let out a pleasant little laugh while her needle continued to fly in and out of the silk. They were in Lady’s Yi’s sitting room. Though they had started at the same time, a hummingbird with green-tipped wings had emerged on her stepmother’s handkerchief along with a vibrant red peony for the little creature to hover over. Jin-mei had only completed one crane in what was supposed to be a pair soaring through the clouds.
‘We can’t stop now. The wedding is only three days away,’ Lady Yi chided gently.
‘Yes, the wedding.’ Why did her chest draw tight whenever anyone mentioned the wedding? Her pulse quickened with what could be either excitement or fear. She was pretty certain it was fear. Jin-mei took a breath to try to calm herself.
The day after their meeting in the park, Bao Yang had brought gifts and sat with her and Father for tea. After that an astrologer was immediately consulted to choose an auspicious date for their union. Between the stars and the moon and their birth dates, a good date just happened to be occurring only a week later. How convenient.
She picked up her embroidery and continued working on the wings of her crane. Though she wasn’t as clever and quick as Lady Yi with the needle, she was competent. She was also meticulous. She hated nothing more than making mistakes and having to pick out the stitches.
The handkerchief was a square of blue silk decorated with a pair of cranes to symbolise love and union. It was meant to be added to the dowry that would be sent to Bao Yang to show off her skill with the needle and thus desirability as a wife.
‘All of this rush is completely unnecessary,’ Jin-mei
