The Paper Daughters of Chinatown - Heather B. Moore Page 0,56
attention drawn away from her.”
Mei Lien straightened and frowned. “I am nothing compared to Ah-Peen Oie. She is a lovely, sophisticated woman.”
“Not every man wants a sophisticated woman,” Huan Sun said in a quiet voice.
Mei Lien had to look away then because her neck was heating up at the way he was looking at her. Would tonight be the night? How long would he wait?
“I hope I can please you,” she whispered.
She heard him rise to his feet and walk toward the bed. When he stopped, he did not touch her as she expected. He only breathed out a sigh. The silence ticked like a clock between them, and finally Mei Lien looked up.
She couldn’t read his expression, and she didn’t know if she wanted to. Because when he leaned down and ran two fingers along the edge of her jaw, her heart seemed to expand two sizes. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to like the men visiting her room. But Huan Sun was different.
“You look pale.” His voice was gentle, laced with concern. “Do they feed you enough?”
It was mostly a teasing question, but tears welled in her eyes. Huan Sun sat next to her and drew her hand into his. “Tell me.”
She exhaled a shaky breath. “I haven’t eaten today. The water you sent was all that I was given. Ah-Peen Oie says that I must pay for my own food now that I have a patron, but she has not given me any money yet.”
Huan Sun didn’t move for a long moment; then he released her hand and left the room.
Mei Lien sank against the single pillow. She couldn’t imagine where Huan Sun had gone or what he would do. She bolted upright when she heard an argument coming from somewhere down the hallway. Mei Lien crept to the door and listened as closely as she could. It was Huan Sun’s voice, speaking to Ah-Peen Oie. He was berating the mistress for not feeding her.
Mei Lien brought a hand to her mouth to stifle her gasp. She had never heard anyone speak sharply to Ah-Peen Oie, and Mei Lien could only imagine the woman’s horrified fury.
Then a door shut. Hard. Footsteps again. Mei Lien hurried to the far side of the bedroom and hovered near the window that was now dark.
When the door next opened, it was not Huan Sun or Ah-Peen Oie who stepped in, but a servant girl with a tray of food. It smelled delicious, even in its cold state. After the girl left, Mei Lien didn’t move for several moments, waiting. When no one else came in, she finally crossed to the food and ate her fill of chow mein and dumplings.
She waited long into the night for Huan Sun to return, but he never did, and eventually she fell asleep.
Two days passed, two days of food and water delivered to her room, but no Huan Sun. Mei Lien paced her bedroom. She spent long moments staring at the lotus. She parted the drape and watched out the forbidden window, ignoring her half-completed embroidery work.
On the morning of the third day, Mei Lien woke early and checked on the lotus. The bud had yet to open, but the rest of the plant seemed to be thriving. She added a little more water, then drank some herself. Last night there had been a banquet, and Mei Lien had spent the evening in her room. Had Huan Sun come to the banquet but not visited her? She had no way of knowing. The other courtesans kept to themselves, and she doubted any of them would be awake until the afternoon.
A scratching sound drew her attention, and Mei Lien turned toward the window. A robin had landed on the outside sill. Mei Lien watched the small bird flinch and dip its head. She didn’t move or make a sound. Envy heated her body. The creature could fly away at any moment, fly away to whatever its next destination would be. Its freedom.
If only Mei Lien were as small as a bird. She could leave the house, fly away, and soar above all that was her life.
Her door burst open, and Mei Lien turned with a gasp as Ah-Peen Oie stormed in, followed by two other girls.
“Have you been stealing money from me?” Ah-Peen Oie ground out, crossing the room to stand before her.
Mei Lien was so stunned it took her a moment to say, “No, of course not. Why would you—”