She stared back at him, getting his measure, then bowed her head. "Thank you," she said brightly, and, as she turned away, added beneath her breath, "may your bowels be twisted and your children loath you."
The thought consoled her, but she also felt a sense of failure. She had steeled herself to come; had fought off her reluctance, but now . . .
"Pssst.1"
The sound came from the darkness to her right. She stopped, looking across, peering into the shadows. Vaguely she could make out a figure, standing in an open doorway, beckoning to her. She glanced round, noting that neither the official nor the guard could see her from where they sat, then hurried across.
A hand reached out and took her arm firmly. "You mending lady, right?"
"Right," she answered, matching the old woman's whisper.
"You want Hsien L'ing, right?"
"Yes," she answered. "You know where he is?"
"Maybe . . ." The old woman leaned closer, the smell of cabbage strong on her breath. "Some nights he go baths. He meet Wei there. Much talk. Other things, too."
"Ah." She wasn't sure she wanted to know about the other things, but this was useful. If she could see him there . . .
"Your She turned. The guard was leaning from his post, looking across.
"Thank you," she whispered, squeezing the old woman's hands, then hurried across.
As she came closer, the guard pointed at her. "What the fuck you up to, eh?"
"It was my aunt," she said, acting more confidently than she felt. "She was asking after my husband."
She bent down and retrieved the parcel, then looked back at the guard, but it seemed her explanation had been satisfactory. His nose was already buried in the porno-comic.
Arsehole, she thought as she went through the gate and out into the street. / hope your cock drops off.
She stopped dead, the simple violence of her thoughts surprising her. Maybe Lin was right. Maybe it was best not to fight this. But something drove her on. Ten minutes later she stood in the busy central square, beneath the steps of the bathhouse, staring up past the great stone pillars, trying to make out if there were lights on inside or whether she was just imagining it.
As she began to climb the steps, a figure stepped from the shadows, barring her way.
"Stop right there."
She smiled at the young guard, noting from his blue silks that he, at least, had been trained to the job.
"Well?" he asked.
"I wish to see the Hsien L'ing."
"Then make an appointment with his Secretary in the morning. Office hours are over."
"But this is urgent."
"Everything is urgent Now go home. My Master is not to be disturbed."
His manner was pleasant enough - far more pleasant than the bastard at the Yamen - yet there was something about him that told her he was not to be argued with. Bowing low, she backed away.
At the far side of the square she turned, looking back. The steps were empty once again, the guard returned to the shadows. For the briefest moment she wondered idly whether she should sneak round the back of the bath-house and force her way into the Hsien L'ing's presence, but knew that such a course would only damage her chances. No, the young guard was right; she would have to go back in the morning and face the Third Secretary again.
As she made to turn away, the smell of the nearby food carts caught her attention, reminding her that she had promised Ji cakes.
She went across to the nearest stall and, setting the parcel down, studied what was for sale.
"How much are they?" she asked the old woman, pointing to a small tray of oatmeal cakes.
"Twenty-five for two. Fifteen for one."
Emily fished in her pocket and removed a twenty-five fen coin. Her last. "Here," she said. "Wrap two for me."
As the old woman wrapped the yet-warm cakes in greased paper, Emily looked about her, conscious of the bustle in the square. Nothing looked any different from how it had been the evening before. The sights, the sounds, the smells - all of those outward things remained unchanged. Yet the world had subtly shifted. Once again the darkness was descending on them all.
The old woman nudged her arm. "Here!"
She took the wrapped cakes, returning the old woman's toothless smile, then, lifting the parcel once again, began to make her way back, the sky clear and dark above her, the stars burning down like a thousand eyes, watching her as she went.
Without pausing to knock, Su Ping burst into his brother's changing room, anger making him raise his voice above its normal ice-calm level.
"What in the gods' names are you up to, brother? I've spent the whole day dealing with complaints . . ."
He stopped dead as Su Chun threw off the flimsy sheet and climbed from the massage bed to confront him. He had a glimpse of a naked girl - a pretty young thing with snow-white curves and jet-black hair - and then a door slammed to his right, making him jump.
Chun came across and poked him in the chest.
"And what in the Lord Fuck's name do you think you're doing, brother? You sure as hell know how to pick your times! It's taken me a week to get that one into my bed, and now you've gone and frightened her away!"
Su Ping swallowed. He glanced down briefly, surprised to find that his twin still sported an erection, then averted his eyes.
"I ... I ..." he stammered, then, remembering why he'd come, he took control of himself again. "I want you to stop your men harassing my citizens."
"Harassing . . ." Su Chun laughed, then lay a hand on Su Ping's shoulder and squeezed it. "Why, that"s rather strong, wouldn't you say?"
"Strong? Why, if I were to say what I really felt. . ."
"No, no, brother," Su Chun said reassuringly. "Please calm yourself. If my men were a little heavy-handed, I'll correct that."
Su Ping removed his brother's hand. His voice was hard now. "You'll do more than that. You'll move them out at once, understand? I'll not have your men threatening my citizens."
But Su Chun seemed unperturbed. He pulled on a silken robe, then turned back, shrugging. "I'm afraid I can't do that, brother. My Masters. . . well, they have to pay their taxes too, neh? Besides, it will solve our other problem, neh?"
"Our other problem?" Su Ping stared at his brother suspiciously.
"I'm talking about our youngest brother, Su Yen. With the extra we make, we could finance Su Yen's rise quite comfortably."
Slowly, very slowly, Su Ping began to shake his head. "You're serious, aren't you? You really mean to move in on me."
"No, brother. Not at all. I shall keep it all... within limits, let's say. But our Masters ... well, you must serve yours, I mine." He smiled broadly. "And as long as our Masters are happy . . ."
Su Ping stared at that broad, smug face, realising for the first time just how much he hated it, then, without a further word, he turned and left the room.
Downstairs, in the great high-ceilinged hallway of the Baths, Kung Chia, his Wei, was waiting.
"You sent for me, Excellency?" he began, but Su Ping cut him short, his voice echoing loudly in that huge, open space.
"I want you to rein that bastard in. I want you to make sure his punks are kept in check. If they even spit in the wrong place, I want them arrested. And if they dare go near any of the big houses again, I want to know about it immediately. I will not have my people threatened, you understand me, Kung?"
Kung Chia, surprised, bowed his head. "I understand, Hsien L'ing."
"Then go. And make sure you serve me well."
Kung looked up sharply. "You doubt me, Excellency?"
"No ... no, Kung. It's just. . ."