tint inside. ‘Look here. Such a beautiful colour. So vibrant, perfect for a young lady.’
The clever woman went on to coo about how lovely and flawless her skin looked. The flattery was an obvious and overused ploy, yet it worked. Perhaps she was starved for compliments lately.
‘I saw lower prices at the shop near the south wall,’ Yan said casually.
She continued to look over the display while she battled over the goods with the old woman. It was an elaborate language: a mix of insult, coaxing, denials and promises. An art form where you fought just as hard for a single copper as you fought for a hundred. Finally this was something she knew, something she was good at.
‘I’ll give you a good price,’ the woman cooed. ‘Choose two, I’ll give you a better price.’
They settled quickly with only a few rounds back and forth and Yan Ling and Dao emerged from the shop with the cosmetics wrapped in a parcel of paper. Dao opened the parasol and they both ducked under it, heads close, laughing.
‘That old woman was tough,’ Dao said.
‘Everything was so shamelessly overpriced,’ Yan Ling remarked. ‘But I suppose it is the capital.’
They had bought the cinnabar tint and a bottle of perfume as well as face powder and nail enamel. Their shoulders brushed lightly as they scanned across the stands, seeking out the usual purchases: embroidery thread, a few medicinal herbs for Old Man Liang. The market was a welcome distraction. It had been a long time since Yan Ling had been able to think of anything besides Fei Long.
Until that very moment. Now he was back in her thoughts.
‘There you go again,’ Dao said. ‘Sighing long and loud.’
Yan Ling hadn’t realised she made a sound. ‘I was just thinking of how much I’ll miss you when I go,’ she lied.
‘Silly girl,’ Dao scolded, touched. ‘But you’re going off to marry a prince. A mysterious and exotic prince.’
‘I don’t think he’s a prince,’ Yan Ling argued. ‘Just a tribal leader of some kind.’
‘We were just debating between the stable and the kitchen boy, remember?’
They laughed together. By then, it was time to return. Her feet had begun to ache and they still had a long walk back through the residential quarters. The two of them left the market with Huibin following doggedly behind. Halfway home, the crash of cymbals and drums broke through the afternoon haze.
‘Isn’t it late for a wedding?’ Yan Ling remarked.
‘Must have been an auspicious hour.’
They paused at one end of the street to watch as the wedding procession approached a residence. The groom was dressed in a blue robe with a broad red sash draped over his shoulders and tied in front. A train of attendants bearing gifts followed behind him along with an empty sedan lifted by four porters.
Dao sniffed enviously. ‘I’ve always dreamed of being married.’
‘Why can’t you marry?’
‘What, with no family to make the match? No prospects? A fat, old magistrate once asked the elder Lord Chang for permission to make me his concubine, but the lord refused, thank the Goddess of Mercy.’
Dao’s explanation shouldn’t have come as such a surprise. Yan Ling’s prospects had been even worse when she had been at the teahouse. That was why her master and mistress were so eager to be rid of her. They had no hopes of marrying her off and she’d only be trouble when one of the local boys got her pregnant.
It had been easy to leave her village behind. She didn’t have anyone she wanted to hold on to. No one to go to the market with. No one who would carry her to bed and cover her with a blanket so tenderly. Even if he acted as if it never happened the next day.
When had she started to expect so much more?
The procession reached the bride’s house, which was marked by red draping over the door. The family came out to greet the groom. Everyone was dressed in their finest for the happy occasion. Finally the party disappeared into the house while the sedan waited outside. There would be tea and gifts and ceremony within before the bride emerged, ready to be taken to her new home.
Dao sighed and took hold of her arm affectionately as they walked back. ‘You really are fortunate, you know.’
‘Yes, very fortunate,’ she echoed hollowly.
* * *
‘Close your eyes.’
Her nose twitched as Dao dusted the pale powder over her face.