My Fair Concubine by Jeannie Lin

Author:Jeannie Lin
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2012-10-26T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Fei Long declared that there would be no lesson for the last few days and Yan Ling was too intimidated to question him about it after he’d coldly put her in her place. Bai Shen didn’t come by for the rest of the week either. She was hoping he would return to set everything right. The two men were almost like brothers—brothers who traded insults and fought and were opposite in every way—but brothers none the less.

If the scoundrel had just returned with a humble apology and a few witty remarks the next day, all might have been forgiven. Instead Bai Shen stayed away and Fei Long continued to shut doors between them. Without her morning or afternoon lessons, it fell upon Dao and Yan Ling to come up with their own routine.

Dao had no complaints. She’d ushered Yan Ling to the market, holding a parasol over her like a dutiful attendant.

‘We don’t have to be so formal,’ Yan Ling protested. It was important for them to maintain appearances, but it still felt unnatural being coddled so.

‘You don’t want to take up any sun and get dark,’ Dao insisted.

She wondered if Dao had been such a nag to Pearl. They were trailed by the burly Huibin, one of the fetch-and-carry attendants who helped with the market purchases and went wherever he was needed. They moved to the shade beneath the row of trees at the edge of the lane. The heat only faded slightly in the wane of the afternoon. She wore a simple robe today, though she would have considered the peach-coloured cotton an unimaginable luxury not a month ago. The fabric was light and more suitable for prolonged activity like the long stroll to the market.

‘Dao, do you have anyone?’ she asked.

‘Anyone?’

They were crowded close to one another so the shade of the bamboo parasol covered both of them.

‘Like a young handsome someone, you mean.’ Dao laughed.

There were two different Daos. In front of Fei Long, the master of the house, Dao was timid, respectful and chose her words with utter care. When the two of them were alone, Dao threw words about like a fisherman scattering rice.

Yan Ling lowered her voice. ‘Yes, so?’

Speaking about such a personal issue out in public made her nervous, but the crowded city seemed a more secure place for secret yearnings than the Chang family home.

‘Who would I possibly be fond of? Old Man Liang has hardly any teeth.’

Yan Ling stifled a laugh.

Dao went on. ‘Those boys in the kitchen and the stables? Or that mule Huibin over there? Worthless.’

Yan Ling cringed and didn’t dare look back to see if the manservant had overheard. ‘Huibin’s not so bad,’ she whispered.

Dao sniffed. ‘You’re right. He’s the best of them. So, no, I haven’t anyone.’

Yan Ling knew that the household adored Dao—adored her for her cleverness and feared her for her sharp tongue.

‘I was just trying to imagine what it must be like,’ Yan Ling said wistfully.

‘It must be the weather.’ Dao sighed.

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