right. I have noticed a significant change in her.’
‘I don’t know what we would do if I hadn’t found her.’
Bai Shen regarded him with an oddly contemplative look. It was the sort of look he might take on at the end of a late night, after several rounds of wine had made him melancholy and reflective.
‘Be careful, Fei Long,’ he said sombrely.
‘I’m being very careful. Tong is as sharp as an eagle and he seems out to destroy our reputation. I’m taking every precaution when dealing with him.’
With a sigh, Bai Shen turned around to continue surveying the perimeter. ‘You fool,’ he muttered. ‘That’s not what I was talking about at all.’
Fei Long bit back his reply and watched Bai Shen retreat down the alley. He was being careful about Yan Ling. Diligently so. All of his senses sharpened when she was around. He was always on guard now, even in his own home. That was how careful he was.
Chapter Eight
Yan Ling lay on her back in bed and blinked at the alcove overhead. She had been up for an hour, staring sightlessly into blackness and waiting for the first sound of the morning birds. She had only slept fitfully through the night. An official notice had come from the ministry offices earlier in the week that the ministry would visit that morning.
Her worries about the dreaded Inspector Tong had chased her deep into her nightmares. She would open her mouth to speak only to find her tongue wouldn’t move. All she could do was sit like a stone statue in her chair, blinking helplessly, while Fei Long glared at her in horror, dishonoured and disappointed.
She woke up and couldn’t fall asleep again. Instead, she waited for the household to awaken. At the sound of footsteps outside, she rose to call Dao into her room.
‘Look at you,’ Dao bemoaned. ‘I told you to get your rest.’
‘Is it that bad?’
The sun hadn’t risen yet and they had to light a lantern in order to comb and pin her hair. Dao frowned as she dusted fine powder beneath her eyes to try to mask the dark circles.
‘I’ll just say I’m losing sleep over the elder Lord Chang— I mean, my father’s death,’ Yan Ling said.
Dao’s frown deepened, making Yan Ling even more agitated. She had been filled with advice over the last few days. Bai Shen told her to speak with her eyes while Fei Long insisted she say as little as possible. She needed to succeed for everyone’s sake.
Once dressed, she went to walk the garden to gather her thoughts, but after a half an hour of that, her feet were sore and her nerves just as taut. She settled onto the stone bench at the edge of the garden as sunlight peeked over the rooftop.
The morning chill settled in around her, but she didn’t want to go back to her chamber. Instead she huddled inside herself, tucking her hands together within the folds of her sleeves.
The kitchen stirred with activity over at the far corner and the scraping of pots and the clatter of dishes reminded her of mornings at the teahouse. If given the choice, would she want to go back? Certainly not. The last weeks in the Chang household had been the happiest time she’d ever known. She wore the fanciest silks and ate delicious meals from painted plates and bowls.
More precious than that, she had companionship. True companionship that came from the time that was her own. Her mornings were spent with Dao or Bai Shen. The afternoons with Fei Long were made of gold and jade. From the moment she woke each morning, she’d wait for their lesson.
All her life, she’d heard only commands. Her master and mistress would tell her what to do and to do it faster. The snatches of gossip and laughter with the cook and the kitchen boy could hardly be called conversation, not after the discussions she had now with Fei Long. Whenever she asked something or said something that made him pause and think, the thrill of victory would rush through her.
Yan Ling was no longer merely mimicking the actions of an educated lady. She was learning. Something was changing inside of her, but was it enough?
‘You’re up very early.’
She knew it was Fei Long before he spoke. She’d sensed him from the moment he came out into the courtyard, yet her pulse still jumped with pleasure as he neared. Every day, she strained to recognise the weight of his