Light pierced silk curtains like gold needles, each beam striking Lian's temples with merciless precision. He cursed, rolling onto his side, the lingering scent of alien perfumes and sweat clinging to his sheets. The previous evening's performance—the Crimson Lotus Dance—had been worthy of adoration, silver, and sufficient rice wine to drown a small village. Now he paid the price.
"Damn the gods," he growled, pressing cool fingers to his aching forehead. His quarters at The Golden Lantern were lavish by anyone's standards—shining rosewood, silk hangings of immortals in the throes of ecstasy, jade trappings that cost more than most peasants saw in an entire lifetime—but today, the luxury was oppressive.
Lian strained upward, gritting as his world whirled for an instant. There was a porcelain mug of hangover remedy on his bedside table—a slave had left it there—bitter herbs and honey. He drank it down in a grimace-inducing gulp.
After bathing and dressing in a simple but beautiful blue robe that complemented his wiry face, Lian went down to the teahouse area of The Golden Lantern. The first floor was not yet occupied this early, only doing tea and snacks before it was a showcase of beauty and lechery come night time.
"The sleeping phoenix stands at last," a melodious voice from a corner table said.
Lian looked over and saw his two closest friends—the only two people in the Yin-le District he could ever truly trust. Mei, a courtesan with guqin skills matched only by her skill at gathering secrets, gestured for him to approach with a silver-ringed hand. Beside her was Zhi, whose good looks and well-muscled body made him the darling of female nobles seeking discreet companions.
Unlike all of their brethren, however, neither had been born to the business. Like Lian, destiny had brought them to Madame Xue's doorstep—lovely, in need, and ultimately profitable.
"You look like death warmed over rice wine," Zhi cackled, filling Lian a glass with sweet jasmine tea.
"And you look like someone who has been sampling the merchandise once more," Lian retorted, pointing to the telltale love bite below Zhi's high collar.
Mei smiled. "Well, at least he didn't have half of the nobles waiting until morning. I've heard Lord Chen's wife herself had to physically pull him from your rooms."
"His wife?" Lian winced, accepting the tea with a thankful smile. "I thought he was his sister."
Their laughter was interrupted by the presence of Madame Xue, her massive figure slicing through the darkness like a ship with all sails full. Her elaborate hairstyle was topped by jade pins worth a king's ransom, her silk robes immaculately pressed in the early morning.
"My dears," she cooed, but her eyes remained as sharp as ever. "I trust you're recovering well, Lian? Tonight we have even more distinguished guests arriving after your triumph."
Before Lian could respond, Zhi stayed with a wicked grin. "A moment, Madame. What our heavenly dancer needs is stronger than tea."
He dodged behind an ornamented screen and returned in moments with a small lacquer box. Inside was a pipe and a jade jar of the best opium—a gift from one of his own clients.
Madame Xue's lips thinned with disapproval, but she said nothing. The courtesans' manners were profitable as long as they were still presentable. "Just get him presentable by sundown," she commanded before sweeping off to intimidate the kitchen staff.
Lian accepted the pipe gratefully as Zhi expertly prepared it. The initial drag was heaven itself, the sweet smoke filling his lungs and causing shivers of warmth to course through his body. His headache dissipated like the tide.
"Better?" Mei asked, her eyes knowing.
"Divine," Lian replied, passing the pipe to her. "Now tell me what I missed amusing Lord Chen and his not-sister."
Zhi leaned forward, his tone dropping. "Half the imperial court was here, but in the shadow of one man—the northern merchant."
"Jin," Mei continued, dropping her voice to match Zhi's tone of secrecy. "Word is, he controls half of the city's black commerce now."
Lian raised an eyebrow, taking a large second hit on the pipe when it was passed to him. "The dude with the scar through his right eyebrow? Who had on a black panther mask? He was tailing me last night."
"Everyone was looking at you last night," Zhi told her. "But yeah, that is him. Supposedly, he's not just a trader but ex-nobility--perhaps even some connection to the old dynasty but some people claim that those are rumors but that he is disgustingly wealthy."
Mei nodded greedily. "Supposedly he's richer than half the ministers in the Empire combined. Buoys pleasure houses just for burning them off when he becomes tired of them."
"Speaking of the devil of these moonless nights," Zhi snarled, his eyes fixed on the entrance.
Lian didn't turn to see who had arrived. The teahouse had become instantly deathly silent, as though the forest itself was holding its breath at the coming of some predator. He took one last, long pull on the pipe before setting it down with deliberate slowness.
Jin walked towards their table with the ease of a man who felt equally comfortable in the palace corridors and on the battlefield. His dark green attire was simple but of a material so fine that it must have originated from across the sea. The scar slash across his eyebrow gave severity to otherwise handsome features instead of compelling ones.
"Master Lian," he said him, voice sounding like pebbles on silk. "Your performance last night was. illuminating."
Lian smiled and allowed the memory of it to reach his mouth. "I'm happy something penetrated your northern reserve, Master Jin."
There was heavy tension between them. Mei and Zhi exchanged uncomfortable looks before both of them made hasty excuses to depart, and Lian was left standing alone with the merchant-lord.
"Will you walk with me in the gardens?" Jin asked, although it was no question at all.
"The Golden Lantern's gardens are for paying customers," Lian replied, examining his fingernails with pretended disinterest.
Jin placed a tiny silk pouch on the table. The transparent circle of gold was unmistakable. "I believe that covers a walk. And tonight's show, maybe?"
Lian rose to smooth ease that belied his hangover, the opium now running pleasantly through his veins. "A walk, then. Though I must warn you—my company is highly overpriced."
"Everything of value is," Jin replied, offering his arm.
The garden was a small work of artifice—small mountains, neatly clipped trees, and a stream that appeared to spring from thin air. Lian walked a little ahead, aware of Jin's eyes on him.
"Your accent," Lian said after a pause. "It's not northern. Not naturally."
Something flashed in Jin's eyes—surprise, perhaps. "Very few do."
"I notice all about men who wish to possess me," Lian replied tranquilly. "It keeps me alive."
"And what else do you notice, dancer?"
Lian turned to look at him completely, studying the sharp planes of Jin's face. "That you're a threat. That your hands have seen combat. That you're not here for enjoyment."
Jin's mouth twisted into something less than a smile. "Perhaps I just appreciate beauty."
"No one does, truly," Lian said. "Beauty is simply a disguise for desire or ambition."
Before Jin was able to respond, Mei appeared at the garden gate. "Lian! Madame is commanding us to get ready tonight and also to go and see your new mask."
Lian nodded to her before turning to Jin again. With practiced seduction, he leaned his head forward and kissed Jin's cheek, lingering just long enough to make the man's breath catch.
"Until tonight, then," Lian whispered against his skin. "I'll save a dance for you."
He walked away without looking back, but he could feel Jin's gaze burning into him—desire, rage, and something darker swirling together like ink in water.
END OF CHAPTER 2