Lian and Mei spent the entire day playing their game, matching Yiwu's sights with those across the Central Empire. A house that was apparently haunted by the supplicant who had convinced Emperor Wu II to build the first school in Yiwu. A dark, smelly alley where a game of dice called Pick and Win had been going on for over fifty years uninterrupted – Mei and Lian even played a few rolls and promptly lost fifty copper pieces each. The courtyard of a favorite client of Mei's where an Emperor had once stayed and survived an assassination attempt. The Zhezhun royal palace, where the King of Zhezhun – frail and shriveled by age – still appeared on a ledge every weekend to address his people.
Each time Mei stopped Lian and told her to look around, Lian had the same panicked response, as nothing immediately registered in her mind. Then Mei would explain everything, and the tiniest detail would trigger a connection that spiraled off in a thousand different directions, until Lian knew exactly where she had seen, heard, or felt that place before.
They also visited Mei's favorite two restaurants, one of which served traditional Zhezhun dishes, while the other was a simple noodle shop that Mei claimed had a secret recipe to its sauce that brought it high above every other restaurant in the city. Lian didn't even need to take the first bite to recognize the sauce. She laughed as Mei's eyes rolled with delight with the first bite.
"What's so funny?" Mei asked through the mass of food in her mouth.
"Secret sauce?"
"Yeah. No one else in the city serves it."
"It's a Northern Shu standard, I'm afraid." Lian's voice was apologetic; she didn't want to break the other woman's heart. "One part sesame oil, three parts soy sauce, and flakes of dried up pepper mixed in."
The secret shattered, Mei's eyes registered her hurt, despite Lian's best intentions. "Oh."
"It is delicious though," Lian tried to move past it, looking down and shoveling noodles into her mouth. When she looked up again, Mei was staring at her. Not angry, just mildly amused, as if she found it funny that Lian had shattered one of her longest-held beliefs. Lian swallowed, then launched into her explanation.
"This reminds me of the school again. We'd have almost this exact meal once a week. There was only one cook for the whole school, and he was terrible. Except for this dish. He made the tastiest noodles I've ever had. To this day."
Mei smiled, her food sticks lazily in her hand, her eyes stuck on Lian's. "Do you think that's just because you were so young? And you remember it fondly?"
"…Probably." Lian was suddenly torn apart from her body, her mind dissociated and floating above herself, watching as she ate this meal and casually shattered the dreams of this woman who was, even dressed down and completely unadorned, the most beautiful creature she'd ever seen. Her entire body was overcome by an intense surreality. She couldn't believe she was sitting there, talking to this woman, eating noodles with her. It felt like a fantasy made real. She realized Mei was staring at her fondly, and Lian stammered out a question. "Ah…what about, what about you? You never really specified what your school was like. How big was it? What did you learn?"
Mei played with her food a bit, breaking her gaze on Lian for a moment. When she looked up again her hair had fallen down and obscured her eyes. "Oh, it was pretty simple. Three rooms. One for the youngest kids, one for the pre-teens, and one for the teenagers. Reading, writing, arithmetic. Some history, some poetry. It always felt like I was learning half as much as the other kids I'd see in the street, because they were teaching us in Imperial and Zhezhun."
"What?" Lian asked. "The Zhezhun language? I didn't think anyone even spoke that anymore."
Mei wiped the hair out of her face and ate, slurping a long noodle into her mouth. "Oh, they don't. I think the kids in my school must have been the last one to ever speak it. You're right, it's a dead language now."
Lian sensed the first hint of a lie, somewhere deep in Mei's voice. A tiny hiccup of speed from trying to think and speak at the same time. But Mei couldn't be lying about this. The Zhezhun people had been a distinct ethnic group, with a language that was related to modern Imperial but had retained the ancient Imperial tones. But it had slowly started to die after they joined the Central Empire, over seven hundred years ago. Lian hadn't heard of anybody able to speak Zhezhun in her lifetime: almost forty years. Everyone thought the language had finally died over a century ago.
"That's incredible," Lian admitted, pushing down any doubts. "Do you still know how to speak it? The people at the Imperial Academies would love to talk to you."
Mei grinned and chuckled. "I don't remember much more than 'May I use the chamber pot' and 'Today is the Tenth Day of the week.' Silly little phrases like that."
"Still, that's incredible. I mean it, they'd love to meet you."
Mei smiled again, then returned her attention to her food. Lian did the same.
After the noodle house, Mei took Lian to two more spots. A gladiatorial pit that had grown over in bushes and trees and become a favorite spot for young couples to hide from disapproving parents, and a graveyard where all of Yiwu's nearly-great people had been buried: the mayors and arts-patrons and successful merchants not favored by the royal family enough to be interred in the Royal Memorial.
Then, as the night was already beginning to impose itself on the color of the sky, Mei took Lian's hand and led her down a series of tiny alleys, twisting and turning through the engorging shadows of one of the city's poorer districts – the buildings packed tightly together, the smells and sounds of too many children and not enough money invading Lian's senses. But she didn't care. All she felt was Mei's hand in her own, the smoothness and calmness of it. As they were going through the enclosed streets, Lian came to two realizations about Mei.
Firstly, the woman was a romantic at heart. All her stories and the way she told them were of grand, sweeping moments, when lives were broken or made owing to some innate characteristic of the individual involved. She knew the history of Yiwu, it was true, but more she knew the history of the people of Yiwu. She'd spent years watching them, imagining their lives and hearing of them in her room in the Golden Slumbers. And she loved the people there. Which made the second realization even sadder to Lian.
No one knew Mei. Everywhere they went that day, Mei somehow managed to turn invisible, becoming just a faceless entity walking about and living her life. For such a beautiful woman and someone so confident inside the Golden Slumbers, Mei's presence in public was subdued, quieted, almost beaten down. She avoided everyone's eyes, and even though she caught the eyes of a fair share of men and women that day, they moved on from her just as quickly as they'd been captured. Even in the noodle shop, which Mei obviously loved and Lian imagined she must have come back to many times, she was just another customer – anonymous and boring in a city the size of Yiwu.
Mei was a part of the city, but not part of its people. Secluded in the brothel most nights, her place seemed tenuous compared to all the people who lived and worked and worshipped in the city.
Lian felt a kinship. She'd never belonged to anyone either, not since she'd left the Shuli Go school, since she'd been forced off her Go. She'd become as anonymous as Mei whenever possible, to avoid the conflict inherent in being a Shuli Go. Just like Mei, her knowledge of the world and ability to be a part of it was carefully meted out, when money and survival met her circumstances. As she made this parallel in her mind, she squeezed Mei's hand tight, too tight.
"Ow!" Mei looked back at her, not breaking her stride. "That hurt."
"Sorry," Lian apologized. But she wasn't. She'd just needed to feel as close to the woman as possible.
The two women squeezed through a tiny crevice between a thick stone building on one side and an old, crumbling house on the other. It went on for yards. Lian couldn't even turn her head around once she was in the middle of the crack – she just stared forward at Mei and felt the reassuring grip of her hand.
When they finally exited the stretch, they were in a secluded patch of grass bordered by tall trees on three sides, and part of the stone structure on the other. Lian looked up and was in awe – it was the back dome of a Tiendu Shu temple, forty feet tall and topped in intricate patterns of silver. A small fence separated their clearing from the temple, but the view of it was unobstructed, and the trees blocked out all sound from the houses on the other sides. Lian stopped and stared at the impressive structure dwarfing the old trees, and she remained frozen until she felt Mei pulling on her hand.
"Come on," Mei pointed to a small, crude bench just wide enough for the two of them, placed right in the middle of the clearing.
They sat, both of them pointed towards the dome, and Mei brought Lian's hands into her own, their knees also touching.
"I found this corner one time when I was walking around the temple," Mei explained, her voice barely above a whisper even though no one could probably hear them if they shouted. "I thought, 'there's got to be a way to get to that clearing' but it took me weeks to find it. And obviously it's not too comfortable to get in here. But I love it. It's so quiet."
It was. The houses and the temple protected the trees from the breeze, and even the insects seemed to stay away. It was truly and utterly quiet in the clearing.
"It's lovely," Lian murmured.
Mei began to stroke the back of Lian's hand with her thumb in slow, measured circles.
"This used to be a Shei temple, actually. You remember those Chaste who got their heads cut off? This was the temple they studied in. The King was so disturbed by what they'd been experimenting with that he confiscated the temple and gave it to the biggest Tiendu Shu organization in the city. It took them almost a hundred years to rebuild it into the regular Shu style."
"This is a big one, even by Tiendu Shu standards."
"Yeah?" Mei asked. "What does it remind you of?"
Lian hadn't had to think about this one. There was only one Tiendu Shu temple in her mind.
"In Zhosian. The Grand Temple there. Every Shu temple reminds me of that one. After you've seen it, there's nothing else like it."
"You've been to Zhosian?" Mei's voice was in awe, far more than it had been for any other of Lian's stories that day. "What is it like?"
"Cold," Lian answered truthfully, not meaning for it to sound like a joke, in spite of the cliché of it – the mountain country far to the cold, cold south. "It really is cold. I've only ever really been there in the summer, except for… except for when Quan was born."
"He was born in Zhosian?"
"Yes. It was the only place I could think of where he'd be safe. I… I left him there. With the priests."
Lian started to cry. She hadn't meant to or even felt like she was going to, but this was the first time she could remember actually saying it out loud. She'd left him. Abandoned him. Her own child, into the care of strangers. The agony of leaving him behind that very first spring time, when she was getting ready to descend the melting mountain pass. The shame of what she was doing. The way she hated herself every step she got further away. Abandoning her own, miraculous little boy. All of those feelings flooded back now, twelve years later, the baby she'd abandoned now a youth, just as magical as she'd always feared he'd become.
Mei pulled Lian into her shoulder and stroked the Shuli Go's hair. Lian didn't let herself cry for long, but she did revel in the tenderness, the comforting touch of another person.
"I'm so sorry Lian. That must have been hard."
Lian heard the way Mei slipped into her customer service voice. It sounded sincere, but it was too practiced to have any feeling left in it. Lian pulled away from Mei and sniffled her tears away. She hadn't cried in years and it felt dirty, shameful. She regretted showing such weakness to Mei at once.
"No I'm sorry. It was so long ago now. I just… I never think of it that way. I had to go, of course. The keeper of the Tiendu Shu there, he agreed to look after Quan, to raise him. But if there's anyone who hated the Shuli Go more than Emperor Xu, it was the people in Zhosian. They can't forget when Shuli Go were used to kill their whole royal family a few hundred years ago. They didn't trust me, and I could never have lived there with him. I had to come back here, try and earn some money to pay for everything he'd need."
"So hard," Mei said, the tone still less personal than Lian wanted.
"It's not important. That's not why you brought me here. You want to know about the Grand Temple." She sniffed again, cutting off Mei's protest. "It's just like this one, really. But bigger. Bigger than almost anything I've seen. The Imperial Court at Nianjang is bigger. The Ancient Castle in Liangyong. The statue of Fangwu in Jin. All bigger than the Grand Temple. But when you're that high up in the mountains and the air is thin, when something takes your breath away," another sniffle, "it really takes your breath away."
Mei took her time before responding, and Lian could see on her face she was deciding whether to continue playing their game, or press Lian for more information about Quan. Mei decided. "Is it white, like this temple?"
"Oh yes, almost all white. But the turrets are all black stone, taken right out of the Zhosian mountains. Paint can't really hold up against the wind and the snow there, but they've taken gold and weathered it down in the snow so it turns green. And then they put that on all the edges. It's pretty."
"And do their monks chant the same songs up there?"
"Yes, but it's in the Zhosian language. It's more guttural. I know most of it from my summers there, but I never actually went to one of their prayers. I wasn't the most popular person there."
Lian continued to talk about her time there, remembering the parts of that first winter, and each subsequent summer, that weren't about Quan. As she did so, and as Mei continued to pepper her with questions, Lian's tears dried and she managed to return to the moment with the beautiful woman who was coming closer and closer to her with every moment.
Then they were kissing passionately in the secluded space, Lian's desire for the woman rising up hot and fast inside her. She reached for the top of Mei's dress to ease it off, but Mei stopped her.
"No," Mei said, pulling apart from Lian. "I… I don't want to."
Lian regretted her action at once. Of course Mei wouldn't be feeling what Lian felt right then. Mei probably had people falling in love with her all the time.
"I…Ok. I'm sorry," Lian breathed out through pulses in her midsection, apologizing more to herself for being so stupid.
"It's not that I don't…" Mei kept her face close to Lian's so she could whisper. "I like you Lian. I do." Lian's heart fluttered at the thought. Mei was not lying. There was no hint of it. "I just…oh I don't know. It's messy for me."
"Sex?"
"…Yeah."
"I can imagine," Lian tried to imagine.
"No, you probably can't. But that's ok. Just… let's not tonight. Tomorrow, you can come to the Golden Slumbers and I'll taste all of you all over again. But tonight, I just want to share something else with you."
Lian couldn't help but hear Jiang's warnings in her ears, but she'd decided somewhere between the noodle shop and the graveyard that Mei could take every single coin she'd ever earn, and she'd be fine with it. She resigned herself to the fact that she would give all her money to this woman and her brothel. It felt odd, but also somehow correct, as if she'd never really meant to be a rich woman.
"You won't have to pay of course," Mei said suddenly, as if she was correcting an obvious mistake she'd made a sentence prior. "You'll never have to pay again. I just…" she paused as Lian's emotions shifted yet again, "I can just sleep with you there. This," Mei pointed to the ground, "is one of the few places where sex isn't in the way of anything."
Lian was thoroughly confused and delighted at the same time.
And in love. Lian had never been in love. Not really. Thirty six years old and never been in love. A few men along the way she'd felt like she could possibly have loved, even possibly have married if the circumstances had been different. Men like Quan's father even. But he was the perfect example of why she'd never loved. That relationship had been too fast, too intense and broken by their odd existences to ever allow for the possibility of a real love. But now Lian had money, and money opened all sorts of doorways.
All at once Lian leapt into the future with Mei at her side. She would use her money or her swords to solve whatever this concern about a contract was, and then she'd take Mei with her everywhere. She'd show her the Ancient Castle in Liangyong and the Harmony River and the open ocean. They'd ride side by side and sleep side by side and Mei could teach Zhezhun to scholars who would pay to learn a dead language and Lian could work as a Shuli Go whenever something interesting came up. They would make up for all the years Mei hadn't been able to leave and they'd be able to do so comfortably. Maybe, Lian allowed herself to dream, maybe Quan could join us too. But before she allowed herself to dream any further, she came back to that contract. That was the obstacle to be overcome.
"Your boss won't mind me not paying?"
Mei sighed deeply, as if she'd forgotten about that possibility. "Well, Madam Cicao is tough, but I've paid my dues to her more than…"
"I meant the man. Duan."
Mei looked at Lian with a mix of surprise and fear. "You know about him?"
"He introduced himself to me," Lian said. "I have to say. I hated him immediately."
"He…" Mei caught her breath in her throat. "He's not a good person."
"I don't want to get you in trouble, but maybe there's something we can do about that contract of yours."
At the mention of Mei's contract the prostitute's face recoiled and she pulled away from Lian. "No, there's nothing to be done about it."
"What kind of contract can't you walk away from?"
"It's complicated."
"He doesn't have your family or something, does he? He's not going to hurt someone you care about?"
"There's no one left. My family is all gone."
"Then what is--"
"Please, just, drop it for now. Just… walk me back to the square. I just want to walk with you. I want to hold your hand."
Lian wanted to push harder, but she was also so excited by the prospect of a future with Mei that she didn't want to ruin it by pressing the woman before she was ready. There'll be time, Lian told herself, time to figure out why she can't leave.
They kissed tenderly once again, then Lian led them out of the tiny passageway and back into the city. Mei followed close behind, squeezing Lian's hand with everything she could.