Three days later, Lian returned to the Golden Slumbers. She had watched Madam Cicao enter, waited half an hour, then walked straight into the basement office.
The older woman was surprised, but not scared. Lian hadn't brought her swords.
"Madam Zhao," she nodded from behind her table, counting figures. "To what do I owe the honor?"
"Duan's death," Lian responded plainly.
"Death?" Cicao let her surprise register on her face for a split second before recomposing herself. "I thought he was just… missing."
"Yes. Legally he'll be missing for another 117 days, but then he'll officially be dead. But between you and me, he's dead now."
Cicao sat back in her chair, pulled her hands up under her chin, and nodded sagely. "I see."
Lian raised an eyebrow to say she had not received her due. "You can thank me later."
Cicao harrumphed. "Thank you? Why would I do that?"
"Well as I understand it, you're part owner of the Golden Slumbers."
"Yes, I am."
"How much of a part do you own?"
"Four per cent."
"Well in 117 days you're going to own forty-nine per cent."
Cicao raised an eyebrow of her own. "What do you mean?"
"As I understand it, Duan had bought out all his other family members over the years. Wanted to pass it on to his…eight children? Is that right?"
"That's right. He wanted them each to have a part of it when he died."
"Well, see that was a problem for me. So what I did was I broke into his house and got his wife to open their secret safe for me, and I found the contract that he had for Mei, sealed with some of her blood and the magic seal of the Shei Chaste. And then I took that contract to the Prefect of Yiwu and very clearly laid out for him how such a contract was not just illegal, but very poorly reflective of the law and order of this fine city. And I then explained that in the case of illegal, magic-induced contracts such as Mei's, that the only legal remedy, as per Central Empire law, is the complete forfeiture of all tainted assets."
"…You had the Prefect disown Duan's children?"
"Yeah. It's amazing how just a few gold coins help the wheels of justice turn that much more smoothly. And technically I just disowned Duan, because he's still just…missing. But yes, his shares have been nullified. Leaving you as the only existing shareholder of the Golden Slumbers brothel."
Cicao smiled, long and slow. Then her brow furrowed slightly. "But… you said…"
"Yes, forty-nine per cent. Where did the other fifty-one go? Well, of course I own them. Because you made me a very generous offer of fifty-one per cent of the business for one copper coin. And I, because I have a very strong mind for business, saw this was a very good price for such a profitable endeavor."
Cicao's smile disappeared. "Why exactly did I make such a… generous offer?"
"Because you have the other, less magical copy of Mei's contract – you know, the one you would show to inspectors and officials – in here somewhere. And all it would take is matching the signature on that contract to the one in the Prefect's office, to know that you, too, knew all about Mei and her… situation."
Cicao breathed slowly. Lian could see her evaluating her options before settling on the one that agreed forty-nine per cent was better than four. "I see. I made a pretty smart decision, didn't I?"
"You did," Lian agreed. She nodded to the many chests and drawers along the wall, indicating that Cicao should get the contract right then. She got up to do so, opening one chest and going through the papers until she found the right scroll of paper. She handed it to Lian, who inspected it, then put it inside her robe. "Thank you."
Cicao nodded. "You have the paperwork for the shares already?"
"It's at the magistrate's office. It will need the mayor's signature too. You need so many bribes in a city like this."
Cicao chuckled. "I hope we can do good business together."
Lian nodded. "We can. Just as long as you tell me one thing." Her eyes zeroed in on Cicao's face. She wouldn't be lied to again. "Are there any more of them? People who are bound to the place?"
Cicao shook her head. "No. Mei was the last one. There were only a dozen or so. None of them lasted nearly as long as she did. You didn't find any other contracts in Duan's house, did you?"
"Just one. For a Quan."
"That was her brother, I believe."
Lian was silent, just stared at Cicao and swallowed. Then exhaled slowly.
"I'll have the paperwork wrapped up before the new year," Lian continued. "Then I'll arrange for someone to pick up my half of the profits when I'm not nearby. How much are those, anyway?"
"That depends."
"An estimate. One year, how much can I expect?"
"Let's see… on a bad year… fifty gold, maybe more. On a good year. Three, four times that much."
Lian nodded. "I'll have an accountant of my own double check those numbers, if you don't mind."
"Of course. I hope we can be partners though. I do know the business quite well."
"I know you do. That's why I won't trust you."
Cicao smirked. "My days of whoring are behind me. No more lies on my end. I've outlived them."
Lian also smirked. "You and me both."
She turned and walked out of the office and returned to her apartment. She tucked Mei's contract into her bags – the bags she would take with her when she left Yiwu and headed south to Quan for the summer. It had been a long winter, she could barely remember the boy's face. She knew it had changed in that period too – it always did. She never found the little boy she remembered, always some more grown up version that felt alien to her. Maybe not anymore. Maybe fifty gold a year was enough to buy her son's safety. She wasn't sure, but she did know she wanted to try.
It was later in the evening, so she went out for a quick meal before returning to the apartment and laying down to sleep.
Except she couldn't sleep. She just lay there, staring up at the ceiling. She'd slept the night after she'd terrorized Duan's wife into giving up the contract – held a sword to the woman's throat and threatened her. She hadn't felt good about that, but she needed justice more than she'd needed to feel good about herself. Besides the woman was about to be a very wealthy widow, and even though all her children seemed like miniature, equally-evil versions of Duan, she doubted they would abandon her entirely. She wasn't really a victim, not like Mei had been.
Except for that night though, Lian hadn't slept since Mei had died in her arms. Every night she did the same thing: lay down and stared at the ceiling. She waited and waited, meditated and cleansed her mind. It didn't matter. She couldn't sleep. Mei came back into her head every time, one of the three rivers pouring over any defenses she put up, flooding her, drowning her. She lay there that night, finally letting the thoughts and sadness fill her lungs until she could barely pump air in and out anymore.
And just like that she knew what she wanted.
The house belonged to her too – the Prefect had ordered the deed over to Lian when she'd explained who Mei was, what had happened to her. She didn't say she'd fallen in love with her. Probably didn't have to. The Prefect was a woman, a middle-aged, career-minded servant whose bribes had been very reasonable. She knew.
And Lian knew when she walked down that long path, buried in the corner of the city, that she wouldn't be able to sleep until she walked through that house and the glimpse of happiness it had given her. She walked through the mostly empty rooms. The kitchen with the now-rotten food they'd left behind. The library and all the books, the kanbo still on the chair, where she'd put it down. And the bedroom.
She stood in the doorway, slid the door open and her eyes fell on the bed and she started to cry. It smelled like her, clean and fresh and soft, even though the bed was unmade and the air was stagnant. It smelled like her. She walked to the bed, tears in her eyes, and ran her fingers along the fabric, the rough cotton turned to silk in her mind, the skin of the woman she loved, skin she would never find again.
She lay in the bed and cried and cried and cried. She cried until she was exhausted, and in that in-between space between awake and asleep, she breathed deeply and smelt the last of Mei, drifting quiet through the room, swaying in a winter breeze.