# The Sword Dancer

Jeannie Lin

THE THIEF WHO STOLE HIS HEART Sword dancer Li Feng is used to living life on the edge of the law – a woman alone in the dangerous world of the Tang Dynasty has only her whirlwind reflexes to trust. She will discover the truth about her past, even if that means outwitting the most feared thief-catcher of them all…Relentless, handsome and determined, Han sees life – and love – as black and white. Until he finally captures the spirited, courageous Li Feng, who makes him question everything he thought he knew about right and wrong. Soon he’s faced with an impossible choice: betray the elusive sword dancer he is learning to love, or trust his long-disregarded heart and follow her to dangerous, tempting rebellion…‘Beautifully written, deliciously sensual… Exceptional.’ Library Journal on The Dragon and the Pearl

## Han grabbed hold of an ankle and she fell back onto the bed in a tangle of blue silk and gauze.

Li Feng blinked up at him, dark eyes glittering. ‘Always you!’

She was dressed like a courtesan, in one of those robes that appeared to be made out of paper-thin cloth and air. The silk had fallen from her shoulders, revealing smooth bare skin from her throat to the topmost swell of her breasts. Han prepared to defend himself as she reached for him.

Instead of gouging his eyes out, her hands slipped past his to bury themselves into his hair. Li Feng dragged his head down, her gaze on him the entire time. Before he knew what was happening his mouth was pressed against soft, inviting lips.

She tasted of cinnamon and the faint tang of cloves. Though he was positioned over her, his weight pinning her legs, he was the one who felt trapped. This was a ploy, he told himself, while his body greedily strained against her.

Han lifted his head forcibly. ‘At any moment you’re going to slit my throat.’

There was a glint in her eyes that was both predatory and playful. ‘Perhaps.’

## AUTHOR NOTE

I’ve always found it sexy when a hero and heroine cannot only match wits, but also match swords.

A common theme in Chinese adventure stories is the idea of the vigilante hero—a hero guided by honour and chivalry. But how much fun would it be to have the heroine in that role? And the hero, of course, would be the thief-catcher intent on capturing her.

Often people ask me where I get my ideas. For this book the origin was a famous poem by the poet Du Fu of the Tang Dynasty, titled Observing the Sword Dance Performed by a Disciple of Madam Gongsun. The poem starts with a description of a mesmerising sword dance, then moves into a nostalgic look at how much has changed in fifty years like ‘the turn of a page’. The sword dance ultimately becomes a symbol of the end of a golden age.

A final historical note: Wudang Mountain, which is mentioned in the book, is an actual location. In the Tang Dynasty the mountain was already established as a centre of Taoism. A Taoist master, Lu Dong Bin, known as the Sword Immortal, was also a famous figure of the Tang Dynasty. With these elements in mind, I took the liberty of associating my heroine’s sword-training as well as her Taoist upbringing with Wudang.

I hope you enjoy the adventures of my sword dancer and thief-catcher as they chase their way across the cities and rivers of Tang Dynasty China. There’s no better place to fight and fall in love, in my humble opinion.

For more information about the stories, or to contact me, visit me online at: www.jeannielin.com. I love receiving mail from readers!

## About the Author

JEANNIE LIN grew up fascinated with stories of Western epic fantasy and Eastern martial arts adventures. When her best friend introduced her to romance novels in middle school the stage was set. Jeannie started writing her first romance while working as a high school science teacher in South Central Los Angeles. After four years of trying to break into publishing with an Asian-set historical, her 2009 Golden Heart®–winning manuscript, BUTTERFLY SWORDS, was sold to Harlequin Mills & Boon.

As a technical consultant, backpacker and vacation junkie, she’s travelled all over the United States as well as Europe, South Korea, Japan, China and Vietnam. She’s now happily settled in St Louis, with her wonderfully supportive husband, and continues to journey to exotic locations in her stories.

You can visit Jeannie Lin online at: www.jeannielin.com


Previous novels from this author:

BUTTERFLY SWORDS

THE DRAGON AND THE PEARL

MY FAIR CONCUBINE

Available in Mills & Boon® Historical Undone! eBooks:

> THE TAMING OF MEI LIN

> THE LADY’S SCANDALOUS NIGHT

> CAPTURING THE SILKEN THIEF

> AN ILLICIT TEMPTATION

Did you know that these novels are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk

## The Sword Dancer

Jeannie Lin


www.millsandboon.co.uk

First of all, to my husband, Fritz.

Though a dedication is a small prize after

being dubbed ‘The Greatest Dad in the World’ (with the shirt

to prove it), this book would not have been possible

without your love, support and laughter.

I must thank my editor Anna Boatman

for her patience and guidance in helping me turn

scattered ideas into a coherent story. Also a thank-you

to Gail Fortune, my agent and avid cheerleader.

THE SWORD DANCER wouldn’t have been possible

without the tough love and critical eye of authors

Bria Quinlan and Inez Kelley, as well as the

continued support of my local critique group:

Shawntelle Madison, Amanda Freeman,

Kristi Lea and Dawn Blankenship.

Thank you to Giovani Dambros and Phillip Puzzo

from Team TRICKset for the information and demos

on freerunning. For assistance in providing historical

insight and extensive research materials I must credit

wuxia author John Dishon.

Though this story has many influences,

I must give a nod to Jennifer Roberson’s fantasy novel

Sword Dancer—the book that convinced me that there’s nothing sexier than a hero and heroine who can cross swords. And finally to Jackie Chan. Enough said.

## Chapter One

Heaven and earth moved in tune with her rhythm.

The sword flashed like Yi’s arrows that shot down the nine suns.

She moved quickly and spiritedly like the dragon ridden by gods.

Du Fu from ‘Observing the Sword Dance

Performed by a Disciple of Madam Gongsun’

Tang Dynasty China—AD 848

Alone reed flute sang the opening melody. It was enough to hush the gathered crowd into silence. A dancer stood, still and patient, at the centre of the circle. The long sword poised in her hand captured the sunlight as an intermittent breeze fluttered through the peach-blossom silk of her tunic. It was as if nature had aligned itself with her for this performance.

There was stillness again before the melody swelled. The musicians were situated at the edge of the clearing, blending into the crowd. All focus was on the dancer.

The young woman gradually lifted one foot; knee curved outward, toes exquisitely pointed. Her free hand took on a classic lotus shape. Her expression remained tranquil. She held the position effortlessly, the graceful lines of her body belying the strength and discipline in the pose.

Zheng Hao Han eyed the sword in her grasp. Its presence added a hint of tension and drama, and the crowd waited eagerly for the dancer to fulfil the promise. Performance troupes such as this one travelled from city to city and always drew a crowd.

‘An unworthy task for the illustrious Thief-catcher Han, eh?’ Longxu remarked beside him. ‘This should be easy work after Two Dragon Lo.’

Han scowled at the snide remark. His newfound fame was an ill-fitted garment he was forced to wear.

Longxu earned his nickname from the dragon-beard hook that he roped around his quarry with stunning accuracy. They had worked together in the past, splitting the reward for apprehending dangerous criminals whom the local magistrates and constables were ill-equipped to handle. Han wouldn’t say that they were partners in this venture. Longxu had the nose of a scavenger, eager to feed off someone else’s catch. He had encountered Han on the road and immediately chained himself to his side.

They weren’t the only thief-catchers in the crowd. The amount of money offered for this case had lured many fortune-seeking mercenaries. All of them had followed the same lead to this remote village within the rugged hills of Fujian province.

A shipment of jade and gold had been stolen from a security warehouse a few counties over. The magistrate had issued an arrest warrant that singled out a band of travelling performers as the culprits, unlikely as that seemed. Han scanned the musicians and dancers at the centre of the market square. Longxu was right about one thing. These weren’t the sort of bandits he usually dealt with.

An explosion of drums shook the street and the audience leaned in close, clamouring for a better view, as the dancer leapt into motion. This was no soft seduction of willowy arms and flowing silk. Her technique was sharp, precise and powerful as she executed sword forms one might see in a fighting drill. She extended her limbs through each movement, exaggerating and accentuating the beauty of the underlying structure.

‘She’s good,’ Han remarked.

‘It’s all show,’ Longxu said dismissively. ‘I’ve yet to meet a woman with any true sword skill.’

Han chose not to answer. He would rather concentrate on the sword dancer than bicker with small-minded vagabonds. There was no doubt that what they were seeing was a performance, yet there was something in the dancer’s stance and her grip on the sword that triggered some instinct within him.

With each thrust of the sword, his pulse rose. With each lunge and leap, his heart beat faster. It was the essence of the sword dance, the balance of contrasting elements. The hardness of the warrior techniques served to highlight the sensuality of the dance. He was enchanted by the suppleness of an exposed wrist. Enthralled by the hint of rounded calves and gently curved thighs beneath the flowing costume.

The dancer’s eyes met his at the end of a turn and his heart forgot to beat. Han kept his expression blank as he returned her gaze. Her skin was glistening, her cheeks flushed. After the brief pause, she moved on and Han swallowed past a sudden dryness in his throat.

The rival thief-catcher had also stopped talking to stare, the same as every other man in the audience. Han needed to focus, maintain a critical eye. He was here to complete a job, not to be charmed by a dancing girl.

The drummers transitioned to a quicker tempo, beating out a driving rhythm as the dancer took to the air. The sword flowed with her, the flash of the blade highlighting each turn while the audience murmured with excitement.

To everyone else, the sword dancer’s movements were nothing more than a performance, but the underlying technique caught Han’s attention. There was training there. Years and years of training. Not something one usually found at a dusty street fair in some back-road town.

At last the penetrating rhythm fell away to the soft refrain of the flute. The melody floated through like clouds parting to calm the storm. The sword dance took on a peaceful, almost languid quality before dropping back into stillness.

The crowd erupted into applause and the dancer took a graceful bow, sword tucked carefully along one arm, as the troupe sent their minions through the crowd to collect coins. A commotion erupted among the musicians. A few of the thief-catchers had become over-eager and were moving in, shouting and attempting to make arrests.

‘Novices,’ Longxu snorted.

Han shook his head in exasperation. A few of the entertainers started shoving through the crowd in an attempt to break free. A sword was drawn from somewhere within the chaos and suddenly everyone was in full motion like ants on a hill.

His first inclination was to back away. There was too much confusion and he wasn’t even clear who the suspects were, but a flutter of rose streaked with gold and green caught his eye. The sword dancer.

Her, his thief-catching instinct shouted.

Instinct was all it took to set him into motion.

She wove through the crowd and ducked into the tavern across the street, slicing through the beaded curtain. Han followed, but the strings of beads swung and tangled around him. By the time he shoved through, the dancer was flying up the stairs. He pushed past startled customers to bound up the steps after her.

He crashed into a server at the top, sending a tea tray and a stack of cups flying. Before he could recover, a sword came at him. Han side-stepped and tried to lock on to her wrist as the blade slid by, but the sword dancer evaded his grasp, her movements as fluid now as they were during the performance.

A cry came from the customers as they stood and skirted to the edges of the room. The sword was aimed at him again. The dancer wielded a jian, its long, thin blade suited for the precision cuts and jabs of the more artful duellists. The weapon itself was fake, the edges dulled, but the skill behind it was very real. Han unsheathed his dao and blocked in a single motion. His blade was heavier by comparison, suited for the swift, decisive attack of a battlefield.

The sword dancer avoided the swing of his blade, attacking into the opening it created. Strategy, controlled breathing, eyes sharply focused without a hint of fear. Han struck at the sword rather than the fighter, using force and momentum to twist the blade out of her hands. There was no time to celebrate as the dancer grabbed a plate and flung it at his head. Followed by a wine jug which shattered overhead as he ducked. Followed by a wooden bench.

Heaven and Earth, she fought like a demon.

The dancer ran over the tables rather than weaving around them. By the time he shoved the bench away, she had dived out the window. Han raced out on to the exterior balcony to find it empty. He peered down below into a similarly deserted street. She’d somehow landed and disappeared into an alleyway.

A furtive shuffle overhead told him differently. He stilled, head tilted to listen. There it was, the faint pad of footsteps. She’d gone up, not down.

Han shoved the dao back into its scabbard and climbed on top of the rail. From there, he grabbed on to the looped carvings that ran along the eaves and used them to hoist himself up on to the roof. The dancer was already at the far end of the rooftop. With a running leap, she sailed across the alley on to the adjacent rooftop, the ribbons of her costume floating behind her like the long feathers of an exotic bird.

The heat of the chase was upon him. He followed her trail, running hard and jumping just before the edge. Grey tile cracked beneath his feet as he landed. He had some experience chasing criminals through winding streets, but this was entirely different. The city below disappeared and the rooftops became a new, uncharted landscape.

The dancer leapt again and again he followed. The rooftop sloped upwards and she disappeared over the rise. The sun was high overhead and as Han began the upward climb, he was momentarily blinded by the glare of it. Suddenly a pink blur whirled towards him, followed by the snap of a well-placed kick at his mid-section. The impact knocked him back. He landed with a thud and started to slide. His hands clawed futilely over the slate tiles.

He hit the edge and his stomach plummeted just as something closed over his wrist, stopping his fall. Han looked up, stunned.

It was the sword dancer. Her feet were braced against the raised edge and the muscles of her arms strained against his weight as he dangled partially over the street below. Their gazes locked. It was only a moment, a blink, a breath. Her eyes were black and luminous beneath the dark lining of make-up. They narrowed on him in challenge.

She let go of him and was again in flight. Han hoisted himself back on to the rooftop and struggled to his feet. The dancer slipped over the edge, but rather than dropping to the street, she hung by the grip of her fingers and swung into an open window that wasn’t much larger than she was.

Her training had made her as surefooted and daring as a cat. Han suspected it was more than just acrobatics or dance. He leapt on to a lower rooftop, then searched around, found a wagon below and landed in back among sacks of grain.

This was now familiar territory. In his head, he’d mapped out the area and tracked the dancer’s speed and direction. Sure enough, he caught up to her as she darted behind a shop. Earthen walls rose high on either side of them. Longxu appeared at the far end of the alley with his hook and rope in hand.

The dancer paused mid-step. Han seized the opportunity and grabbed her, clamping both arms around her torso. She was strong for her size, long-limbed and wiry, and she fought like a wild animal in his grasp.

‘I won’t hurt you,’ he said through his teeth.

Her knuckles caught the bridge of his nose in a bright flash of pain, but he held on and managed to wrestle her arms down.

She was breathing hard, her body tense. She twisted around to look at him. ‘I haven’t done anything.’

‘You ran,’ he pointed out.

‘You were chasing me!’ she snapped.

She had fled the moment the thief-catchers had made themselves known. It made her immediately suspicious.

Han had her trapped against his chest and, now that she was turned, their position disturbingly resembled a lovers’ embrace except that every muscle in her was coiled and ready to break free at the first opportunity.

‘Huh, you should split the reward money with me.’ Longxu shoved the hook back into his belt and approached. ‘I helped you capture her.’

Han tore his gaze away from the dancer. ‘Hardly.’

‘What? The great Zheng Hao Han is too exalted to share?’

The dancer stilled. Her gaze moving over his face as if seeing him for the first time. ‘Thief-catcher Han?’ she asked incredulously.

‘That is how I’m known,’ he replied.

Apparently he’d made a name for himself, though not any name his family would be proud of. Han shifted his grip, taking a hold of the dancer’s wrist and locking it behind her back. This time she didn’t resist.

‘He can’t be Zheng Hao Han,’ she said in a biting tone as he marched her back towards the municipal hall. ‘Thief-catcher Han goes after notorious murderers and villains.’

Han did feel quite the bully. She was slight of build and deceptively delicate in his grasp, but she was no ordinary dancer. She’d been formally trained in the fighting arts, which meant she deserved some respect … and caution.

The village municipal hall was a single building not much larger than the tavern. A clerk sat at a desk. He unrolled a scroll as Han approached. ‘The suspect’s name?’

‘Wen Li Feng,’ the dancer said.

The clerk looked her over with morbid interest. She glared back at him and he shrank back, writing down her name quickly.

‘There were several others brought in as well. But we only have two holding cells here.’

The prison was built much like a stable with a separate pen for prisoners and vents cut into the walls for light and air. Infractions were punished swiftly and there was no need to hold prisoners for any length of time. The constable relied on shackles and other heavy restraints to keep prisoners in line.

Han clamoed irons over the dancer’s wrists, forgoing the cangue, a heavy board which was locked around the neck to trap a prisoner’s head. She was a woman after all. Tomorrow she would be transported to Taining where the crime had occurred.

‘You’ve been trained,’ he said, meeting her eyes. ‘Who is your shifu?’

‘I have no master.’

Her reply was spoken without emotion, but something flickered beneath the calm surface of her face.

‘I don’t believe you,’ he said.

‘It’s all for show, thief-catcher. A dance.’

It wasn’t just the skill with which she wielded a sword that had him convinced otherwise. The inner calm and confidence she exuded during their battle and the subsequent chase didn’t come without discipline.

‘Are you arresting me because of the sword?’ she asked. ‘It was fake, as you must know.’

‘I’m arresting you on suspicion of theft.’

‘I’m not a thief,’ she stated evenly.

‘Then you’ll be found innocent and released.’

She arched an eyebrow at him. ‘Do you really think that is how the tribunal works?’

Not many realised it, but Han had more knowledge of how the judicial halls operated than he had use for. The dancer wasn’t acting guilty, but she wasn’t quite acting innocent either. Not that it was his place to determine guilt or innocence. That was for the magistrate in Taining to decide.

The constable had finished transferring the other prisoners into a single cell. The dancer was the lone female who had been captured. Han had a feeling the others were harmless performers, but Wen Li Feng was something very different.

She’d fought ruthlessly, as if her life depended on it. But when he’d lost his balance on the rooftop, when she could have made her escape, she had reached out to stop his fall instead. That debt hung over him and he didn’t quite know what to do with it.

Han wasn’t one to be swayed by the pleas or protests of his targets. He caught the criminals and brought them in. Yet the sword dancer was neither pleading nor protesting. His last vision was of her looking around the holding cell, her hands weighted down by thick chains that appeared grotesque and imposing over such a graceful figure.

Li Feng lowered herself to the floor of the prison cell, leaning her back against one wall. The floor was packed dirt and there was a bucket in the corner that she preferred to stay away from.

Her instinct was to get up, to move even if there was nothing to be accomplished by it. Fighting against the urge, she closed her eyes. She tried to breathe in deeply and then out, circulating the energy as shifu had taught her. Trying to stay calm. To stay focused.

It wasn’t working.

Li Feng raised her knees and laid her head down upon them. By nature, she didn’t like small spaces. She had grown up on a mountainside, away from the confines of the city.

She had been right to leave Bao Yang and his band of rebels. There was a time when she had thought she fit in perfectly among them. That they were the only people who would ever accept someone like her.

Shifu had taken care of Li Feng after finding her in hiding and alone in the woods, but he had always treated her like his disciple rather than a daughter. It suited her fine to call him shifu, to respectfully refer to him as her master, because she already had a mother and a father. They had been taken from her by force.

Maybe that was why she had been charmed so easily into Bao Yang’s cause as well as his bed. Two years ago, she had just left the isolation of Mount Wudang to venture back into civilisation. In her heart, she had always dreamed of one day finding her family, or at least discovering what had happened to them. She had been too young to remember anything but fleeing with her mother’s hand clasped around hers. Mother had told her to hide. Li Feng remembered they had been running, but she couldn’t remember why. She also remembered the men with the swords who were chasing them.

After an indeterminately long time, she raised her head. It was getting dark inside the cell. She heard the sound of a door opening, followed by footsteps which stopped outside. She stood and peered through the cell door to see a young man holding a tray of food.

‘This must be the most generous village in the province to feed prisoners so well,’ she remarked.

The boy lacked the grim countenance of a watchman. ‘This is from your admirer.’

Admirer? She read the answer from his lopsided grin. ‘Thief-catcher Han?’ she asked in disbelief.

He nodded. Apparently he found it funny as well. ‘The other prisoners in the next stall are eating watery rice porridge. Your dance must have made an impression.’

Zheng Hao Han must have had a strange sense of humour to lock her up yet see that she was fed.

‘Should I take this back?’ he asked.

Li Feng shook her head and he slid the tray through the opening in the door.

‘Tell me,’ she said as he turned to go. ‘Is the thief-catcher standing guard out there?’

‘No, he’s at the tavern drinking with his cronies.’

Celebrating, more like. The dog.

She had first noticed him during her performance. The intensity of his eyes had been enough to break her focus. There was a broadness to his nose and chin and he had an overall rough-boned look that was tempered by the subtle curve of his mouth. She’d noticed because he had been smiling at her, or rather smiling to himself while he was watching her. It was a sly sort of smile, with one corner lifted higher than the other, as if he’d figured out all her secrets.

And of all the thief-catchers that came for her, it had to be the famous Thief-catcher Han that captured her. The formidable warrior, the relentless hunter, the this and the that. Though Han was tall, he certainly wasn’t the giant ox of a man she’d expected, yet he was still strong enough and fast enough to catch her.

Zheng Hao Han had stood out from the surrounding crowd, dressed in a sombre dark robe, with the hilt of a weapon protruding from his belt. She should have known to flee then.

Her shifu had trained her to fight so she wouldn’t have to be afraid, yet seeing those men brought back not only that old fear, but also all of the untold anger she had kept inside her. All her life, she had hated those nameless, faceless strangers who had taken her mother away.

Her anger was without focus until she had met Bao Yang. He had provided the perfect target. General Wang was a tyrant, he’d told her. All of the local authorities were afraid to challenge him and he was intent on seizing more power.

So Li Feng had joined Bao Yang’s group of dissidents. They had disrupted the General’s supply lines, stolen back the grain and livestock he would commandeer to feed his garrison, and worked to cut away at General Wang’s stranglehold over the district in any way they could. But the moment she had seen that extravagant cache of jade and gold, Li Feng knew it was not the typical tribute demanded by General Wang of the local aristocrats and merchants. She had become involved in something more dangerous than she had realised.

Something else in that shipment had finally pulled her away from her alliance with Bao Yang and his rebels. Something that reminded her of why she had originally returned to Fujian province. For the first time in nearly twenty years, she had seen something that was possibly connected to her mother. It was a sign from heaven.

Li Feng knelt before the tray. There was a bowl of rice with a mix of bamboo shoots and mushrooms. It was a simple meal. The real extravagance was the small lamp set beside it. The flame danced within the saucer, providing a tiny orb of light so she wouldn’t have to eat in the dark. Li Feng finished every last grain of rice. When adrift on endless roads, one never knew when the next meal would be.

It was late into the evening now and the sounds of the village outside the prison house had quieted to a murmur. The constable would be off to his bed. The night watch, if there was one, would be settling in for their vigil. She could hear the sound of muted voices through the wall. The poor members of the dance troupe who’d had the misfortune of being in her company.

Li Feng waited a little longer. It was difficult to exercise such patience when trapped as she was. Once she was certain the sky was dark outside, she stood and wrapped one hand around the other. She pushed at her knuckles and shifted the joints beneath the ring of iron. After some twisting, she tugged her hand free. The other manacle quickly followed. She dropped the heavy chain at her feet and blew out the lamp, leaving the cell in complete darkness.

## Chapter Two

After escaping from the prison house, Li Feng was forced to leave her companions behind. The thief-catchers and constables would be searching for a dancer so she thought it best to stay away from the performance troupes she typically travelled with. Besides, her quest was now a personal one.

Li Feng approached the jade shop as she did all the others—with a sense of hope. An artisan in the last village had directed her to this mid-sized town, indicating that the shop here was a successful one that would know more about the type of piece she was interested in.

It was only a few hours until the closing of the market. Soon after that, evening would be upon her and she needed to be in a safe location for the night. A woman on her own had to be careful of these things.

There were two worlds beyond the solitude of Wudang Mountain. There was the realm of the cities, an orderly and structured place separated by walls and governed by law. A gong dictated what time merchants were to bring their wares to market and when to close up shop and go home. Then there was another world alongside it. A place of roads and dust and dark city corners that didn’t adhere to the same boundaries. The inhabitants here were dancers and musicians, monks and beggars. This was also the world where smugglers and bandits operated.

An unspoken fellowship existed among those that travelled the roads for the sake of both companionship and protection. When Li Feng left her shifu, she had met up with a dance troupe that travelled from village to village. Sword dancing had become popular with the crowds, and with some practice she had executed one that was entertaining enough that the performers welcomed her into the fold.

With the dance, a part of her had reawakened. Mother had been a dancer, she was certain of it. Li Feng had a memory of her in colourful costumes: a princess in mourning, a flying goddess, a flower bearer. Li Feng could almost hear a firm, but gentle voice from long ago, telling her to hold her head high and keep her back straight, her toes pointed.

She also remembered travelling with her family as a child. They would sleep under a different roof every night or sometimes beneath the stars with Mother curled up beside her. She had had a father, too, but his face was blurred and faded like all the others in her memory. She was afraid that if she didn’t come back and reclaim her own past, one day her mother’s face would fade as well.

When she had joined Bao Yang in his campaign against the warlord, that struggle had momentarily taken the place of her determination to find her family. She had nothing tangible to connect her to the past except for a few vague descriptions of hills and rivers from Wen shifu and a jade carving that her mother had pressed into her hands.

A carving that had been a complete mystery to her until now.

The inside of the jade shop was undecorated other than the figurines and trinkets gleaming on the counter. The shopkeeper who greeted her was also dressed in a plain brown robe. No one trusted a shopkeeper who looked like he made too much of a profit.

‘Miss.’ His respectful tone tapered off as he eyed her up and down. He was likely accustomed to wealthier customers and her plain tunic failed to impress.

Li Feng glanced over the array of bracelets and finery. She had been in so many of these shops in the last days that she was nearly an expert herself.

She pulled out the carved pendant from her sash. ‘Sir, can you tell me more about this?’

It was an oblong tablet that fit easily in the palm of her hand. A magnificent bird was carved on to it, with wings spread in flight. A red tassel adorned one end. Years of being kept close to her body had changed the creamy jade to a deeper, richer colour.

The shopkeeper held the pendant up and his eyes lit momentarily, just long enough for her to catch the interest in them, before his expression became hooded.

‘Not very high quality,’ he said, affecting a tone of ennui. ‘I can give you twenty cash and that’s generous.’

Did he think she was a child of three? ‘It wasn’t my intention to sell. There is an inscription on the back of the jade that I was told someone here might recognise—’

He shook his head and pushed the jade back to her. ‘That is my final offer, young miss.’

This sort only cared about the number of coins in his drawer at the end of the day. Perplexed, Li Feng picked up the pendant and wove around the counter. She ignored his squawk of protest as she pushed through a beaded curtain.

An elderly craftsman sat at a table in the workroom in back. He was busy polishing a statuette of a dragon with a pearl in its mouth. He paused to look up at her with mild interest while his hands remained poised over the pale-green stone.

‘Honourable sir,’ she began. ‘If you would kindly look on the back of this pendant. I was told by the jade carver in Quantou village that you might be of assistance.’

He looked her over just as the shopkeeper had, but the craftsman took the jade and turned it over in his hands with care.

‘Nanyang jade,’ he proclaimed. ‘The carving depicts the Vermilion Bird. Most likely part of a set of four.’

Her heart thudded with excitement. She had indeed seen three others in the same style and with the same inscription on the back, an inscription she didn’t recognise. Bao Yang had noticed her strange look when they had sifted through the stolen treasure. He had offered the set of three to her as a gift as they had been at odds at the time. It always seemed that they were in disagreement about one thing or another during their brief liaison.

Li Feng had no interest in any of the riches from the heist. Bao Yang’s rebellion against General Wang had started to appear more and more like a personal feud. Coming across that set of jade had been fate, if one believed in such things.

The old man held the pendant up, squinting at the corner. ‘The artist inscribed it with his name.’

Li Feng leaned in close, waiting as patiently as she could to hear more, but instead of continuing, the craftsman glanced up at her.

‘I know who you are.’

‘You do?’ Her pulse skipped and her deepest dreams beckoned from the shadows. Maybe this man had known her family. She was about to find the answer to a riddle. To her riddle. Where she came from. Who she was.

‘You stole this,’ he accused.

Her hope shrivelled to dust. ‘I didn’t steal it. It’s mine.’

The craftsman ignored her protest and started shouting for the shopkeeper. Li Feng darted forwards to snatch the jade from his fingers before hurrying out the front door.

The street outside was thick with activity. Painted signboards marked each shop and wares were displayed out in the street to entice customers. She slipped into the crowd, matching the shuffling pace of those around her though her heart pounded insistently, telling her to run. At any moment, she expected to hear the merchant from the jade shop shouting after her. ‘Thief! You stole it!’

But he was wrong. This jade pendant was the one thing that belonged to her. Her mother had put it into her hands with her final parting words. ‘Don’t cry, Xiao Feng. Don’t cry.’

Little phoenix, don’t cry. Those hadn’t been words of comfort. Her mother was giving her a desperate plea and a warning. Li Feng remembered that she and her mother were running from someone, but she couldn’t remember why.

Her current hideout was a hovel a short distance from the main road. The roof was missing shingles and the wooden structure was overgrown with moss. Such a place had once provided shade, drink and a convenient place to rest one’s horse on the journey between cities. Now it provided her temporary shelter from the wind and rain.

Li Feng took care before returning. She held back and led her horse on a meandering path through the woods outside the city until she was confident that no one followed her. The sun was setting as she ventured back to the abandoned tavern. This stretch of road had become a hunting ground for bandits, according to local gossip, and was treacherous for travellers day or night.

Ever since her arrest, Li Feng had sought out shelter in deserted areas or in not-so-legitimate establishments where she could avoid the scrutiny of law enforcers. She had borrowed, or rather liberated, the horse from a courier station. A woman travelling alone was vulnerable to all manner of danger. She needed to be able to move swiftly.

Her master had wandered through the province before settling in the foothills of Wudang Mountain to meditate and dedicate his life to seeking the Tao. He had learned how to fight to survive against bandits and had passed on those skills to Li Feng as well. A sword was difficult to conceal, so she carried knives for protection. Li Feng slipped one into her hand as soon as she dismounted in front of the tavern. She needed to be inside with the door barricaded before nightfall.

Li Feng brought her horse to the hitching post and removed the saddle before tying him down. She entered through the back door to find the main room dark and still. There were a few benches and tables left behind, mostly broken. She shut the doors behind her and fitted the wooden bar into the latch.

The scant daylight that remained filtered in through the empty panes of the windows. The paper that had once covered them had long crumbled. She would sleep here for the night and tomorrow she would find shelter somewhere else. Maybe there was another jade artisan nearby who would be willing to help her.

Li Feng felt through the darkness to find where she’d set her oil lamp. She used her tinder pouch to light the wick. As her eyes adjusted to the glow, a shuffle of movement sent her heart racing.

She reached for her knife just as an immense weight slammed into her, tackling her to the ground. The knife clattered out of her reach.

She knew what, or who, it was, even before she saw him. She knew from instinct and reflexes and the tension in her muscles as they encountered an unmovable barrier. That bastard thief-catcher’s weight was on top of her.

Struggling for breath, she jabbed him in the side, aiming a pinpoint strike against his floating rib. His body jerked at the impact, but he recovered quickly to grab at her wrists.

Her back was against the ground. Blood pumped through her muscles, feeding the fighting instinct within her, but she had no leverage. There was no power behind her strikes. Still Li Feng fought with everything she had. She needed to try to break his hold somehow. She wrenched her hand free to claw at the soft part of his belly—except it wasn’t soft on him.

‘She-demon,’ Han cursed with a grunt.

She had some good names for him too, but she wouldn’t waste her energy. He threw his forearm across her chest while he groped for something just out of reach with his other hand. The rattle of chains made her blood run cold. She renewed her efforts, twisting beneath him, but it was no use. The cold snap of metal over her wrists took the fire out of her.

For now.

He didn’t get off her immediately. Fear choked her as his hand curved over her waist. Instead of tearing her clothes open, he felt around her sash, her sleeves, then checked her boots where he finally found her other knife. She didn’t know whether to feel relief or anger as he threw the weapon into the corner. She felt both.

‘Surrendering already?’ he gritted out.

She had gone still beneath him, first from the fear of being violated, but now because she needed to conserve her strength and think. There was little she could do while he pinned her. Han was too strong, but if he let down his guard now that she was chained—

The thief-catcher ended that thought by grabbing a rope and coiling it around her wrists. He secured her arms to her sides for good measure, wrapping the length around her torso. She thought he might cocoon her like a silkworm, but he knotted off the rope just below her elbows and finally released her.

Panic stabbed at her once again when Han reached for her sash, but it was only to remove the jade pendant. He released her abruptly and sat back, as if in a hurry to put some distance between them. He was breathing hard and his dark hair was askew over his face. Strands of it had been dragged from his topknot during their struggle.

‘Wen Li Feng.’ His expression was far from smug as he looked her over. ‘You look like you’re plotting my death.’

He was right.

She rolled on to her side and tried to sit up, which was difficult tied the way she was. She glared at him.

‘I hate you.’

He barked out a laugh.

She did hate him. There was no reason, no rational reason for him to go chasing after her. Why wouldn’t he give up like any other lowlife thief-catcher?

She finally managed to prop herself up against the wall, flopping like a fish to do so. Han leaned back to watch her. Bastard.

‘You have sharp elbows,’ he complained, running a hand over his ribs.

‘Sweet talker,’ she retorted.

The lantern cast the thief-catcher’s face in deep shadows. He regarded her with an expression that was both curious and assessing. It made her nervous.

She finally calmed down her breathing enough to sound rational. ‘Why did you come all this way, thief-catcher? Surely the reward money isn’t worth the trouble.’

‘You’re not going to claim innocence?’ he asked.

‘I’m innocent.’

He grinned. His eyes danced with light when he smiled.

‘There is a matter of a stolen horse,’ he remarked.

‘Which you can take back. He’s outside.’

‘That hardly negates the crime.’

She narrowed her eyes at him. Her crimes were insignificant compared to those of the corrupt bureaucrats that governed over the province. Bureaucrats that this thief-catcher obediently served.

‘Then there’s also the matter of a stolen shipment of jade and gold.’ He held up her carving. The lamplight flickered over the jade.

‘This is not stolen.’

He raised his eyebrows at her.

She felt a twinge of loss at seeing her sole possession in his hands. ‘It’s mine.’

Han gave the jade a passing glance before tucking it into the fold of his robe. ‘What about all the other missing treasures?’

‘I don’t know what treasures you’re speaking of,’ she said blandly, her face showing nothing.

More raised eyebrows and a disconcerting touch of amusement at the corners of his mouth. That sort of smile in the right sort of light could disarm a woman, but Li Feng only gave him a hard look in return. She was already disarmed and this was definitely the wrong sort of light.

They loved telling stories about Thief-catcher Han in Fujian province ever since he’d defeated the bandit chief known as Two Dragon Lo. Zheng Hao Han had become somewhat of a romantic figure, yet her thoughts were anything but romantic while she was trussed and helpless before him. Especially when he seemed to be enjoying it.

‘Miss Wen.’ He suddenly appeared serious. ‘I’ve been wondering about your sword skill. You say you have no master, but if I had to guess your style, I would say its foundation is from Wudang Mountain?’

She tried not to let her surprise show. They’d had a brief exchange at the tavern, hardly enough for him to discern any particular technique.

He kept his gaze levelled on her, scrubbing a hand over the hard cut of his jaw. ‘From your silence, I think I must be correct. The Wudang forms are known for their fluidity and are often likened to dance.’

Whether or not she hated him, Li Feng had to admit that Han had captured her. Again. He was more than a dim-witted sword-for-hire. He had been carefully tracking her and assessing her abilities. All while she hadn’t given him a single thought. She deserved her defeat.

Li Feng looked at him now with new eyes—as the enemy. His fighting experience, like so many thief-catchers, probably came from serving in the military. His choice of weapon, the straight-bladed dao, confirmed that.

‘The shopkeeper in town told you about me,’ she ventured.

‘You seem to have a fondness for jade shops across the county. Yet you never have anything to sell. I would expect a thief to try to profit from her bounty as soon as possible.’ He was watching for her reaction. ‘I considered that you might be gathering information for more underhanded activities, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.’

‘I told you, I didn’t take any of the jade.’

He wagged a finger at her. ‘So you had accomplices. Don’t try to be clever with your words, Miss Wen. I’m wondering why, after such a grand take, you are not enjoying newfound riches? A falling out with your comrades, perhaps?’

‘If I told you, would you release me?’

‘No.’

‘I don’t suppose begging for mercy would do any good either,’ she remarked drily.

He paused at that. ‘No,’ he said finally, his expression inscrutable. After a tense silence, he spoke again. ‘If you are indeed guilty of the theft, you must accept the consequences. You might be sentenced to time in the cangue for theft. At worst, you may suffer a public beating. Most likely you’ll be sentenced to servitude to make up for your crimes.’ Han listed off the punishments as if reading from a code book.

‘Are you certain?’ she challenged. ‘There was quite an expensive amount of jade stolen … as I hear.’

‘The magistrate will be lenient seeing as you’re a woman.’

‘I’ll be shown mercy after I confess under torture.’

A frown creased his brow. It was clear he was disturbed by her directness, but said nothing to refute her claims. She may have lived for most of her life away from the affairs of the world, but she’d learned very quickly about how justice truly worked. Some magistrates were crueller than others, but none, by the very nature of their position, was particularly kind.

‘I will do my best to see that you are treated fairly,’ he said, though it was a faint promise. He apparently thought having her head and arms locked in the cangue or publicly beaten was ‘fair’.

‘Why would Thief-catcher Han want to help a suspected criminal like me?’

‘Because you rescued me.’ He wasn’t pleased to admit it.

She sat up straight, confused. ‘I did no such thing.’

‘On the rooftop, you could have let me fall.’

Li Feng recalled reaching out for him, her hand closing around his wrist. She hadn’t even remembered the incident until he brought it up. ‘I acted on instinct.’

‘Most criminals only have the instinct to save themselves.’

They regarded one another across the tavern. There was an undeniable connection between them. Like Han, she didn’t particularly like it. Li Feng didn’t believe in fate, but if she hadn’t caught him, he would have fallen. Perhaps he would have broken an arm or a leg. It would have been very difficult to pursue her while restricted to the use of one leg.

‘What are you smiling about?’ he asked warily.

She thinned out her lips. ‘Let me go and you can consider your debt repaid.’

‘No.’

‘But I’m a helpless woman.’

‘Justice is justice, for man or woman.’

She exhaled in exasperation. He spoke the words with such conviction, but she found it hard to believe him. A mercenary didn’t care about justice or injustice. He only cared about his reward.

‘Did you promise leniency to Two Dragon Lo?’ she asked.

His expression darkened and his light, casual demeanour disappeared. Everyone knew the story. Two Dragon Lo had murdered every other thief-catcher who had gone after him. His gang had even defeated a constable and his entire squad of hired swordsmen. Yet Zheng Hao Han had ventured alone into the forest that was Lo’s stronghold and had killed the notorious bandit with his own hands.

‘Two Dragon Lo was a different matter.’

Tension gathered in his shoulders as Han came forwards and wrapped a hand around her ankle. His touch was firm, but oddly gentle. She considered kicking him out of spite, but their gazes locked and he gave her a sharp and pointed look that was full of warning. In brusque, efficient movements, he coiled another length of rope around her ankles before extinguishing the lamp. She heard the sound of him settling on to the ground not too far away.

She didn’t know if Han deserved his reputation for being the god of thief-catchers, lowly god that it was, but he had thwarted her on her one advantage. Her joints, which had always been flexible, were made more so by rigorous discipline and practice. Irons were easy to slip out of. Coils and coils of rope, less so.

After some time passed, his breathing grew deep and steady. Quietly, she tried to wriggle her hands free beneath the ropes. Perhaps one of his knots could be worked loose.

‘Go to sleep.’ Han’s voice sliced through the darkness. ‘The sound of you struggling is keeping me awake.’

With that, he settled down again. She scowled at him, even though there was no light for him to see it.

## Chapter Three

When Han had originally decided to go after Wen Li Feng, his primary reason was that she was an oddity. She was too skilled with the sword to be just a dancer and she had demonstrated the ability to bypass heavy chains and locked doors.

Now, he was certain she was hiding something. Her behaviour was suspect, with her numerous visits to jade merchants. The same instinct that told him Li Feng was more than a dancer also told him that she wasn’t motivated by greed and that there was more at hand than theft.

His father had always told him to find the one detail that was out of place and start his search from there. Father always seemed more concerned with how things fit neatly together rather than any specific moral code. Right and wrong were values that were subject to interpretation. Order was the natural intended state of heaven and earth and to commit a crime was to violate that state. Their household had once been kept with that same philosophy in mind.

Father also believed that every time a crime went unpunished, society was one step closer to ruin and decay. It had been several years since Han had spoken to the man, but he was sure Father’s ideals hadn’t shifted one bit.

If Han didn’t hunt the sword dancer down, he was certain no one else would or could. So now that his prisoner was trussed up before him, society was safe from ruin.

‘This is absurd,’ Li Feng muttered.

She was face down and draped over the saddle in front of him with her wrists and ankles tied

‘It will take at least a week to reach Taining.’ She tried to lift her head, but failed. ‘Are you going to keep me like this the entire time?’

‘Yes.’

‘I won’t try to run away. You’d just capture me again.’

‘Liar.’

Han looked down to where she lay practically in his lap, squirming. He was trying very hard not to notice the squirming or the flush of warmth it brought to his lower half. She was his prisoner. Not a dancer. Not a woman. Definitely not a somewhat pretty woman with exceptional skills.

He still had an ache in his side. His ribs were likely bruised after their wrestling match. Li Feng might be slight, but she struck with purpose. If he untied her, if he even allowed her to have a single finger free, he had no doubt she’d somehow get her hands on a knife and leave it protruding from his heart.

‘I should thank you for providing the horse,’ he added jovially.

She called him something impolite under her breath. He’d been called worse, but not much worse.

‘You’re no hero, picking on the small and weak.’

‘You’re far from weak, Miss Wen.’

‘Aren’t there more evil and loathsome villains for you to chase after?’

Li Feng looked neither evil nor loathsome at the moment. More troubling than the fact that he found her not unpleasant to look at—and that she had a very well-formed backside—was that he found her interesting. How did a young woman acquire such an extraordinary set of skills? Why would she be involved with thieves and vagabonds?

At the next rest stop, he slipped her from the horse like a sack of grain and propped her against a tree. After tending to the horse, he poured water into a cup and brought it to her.

She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the trunk with a sigh. ‘The indignity.’

Han waited. Without its cynical expression, her face was delicately shaped, tapering only slightly towards her chin. Wen Li Feng was much easier to deal with when she was coming at him with a sword or spitting venom. This show of helplessness made him as uncomfortable as it did her. After a moment, she opened her eyes and tilted her head to accept the water. He had to kneel beside her to place the cup to her mouth. Her lips parted and she looked away as she drank. Han watched the lines of her neck as she swallowed, his own throat going dry.

‘Thank you.’ Her eyes were closed again.

The first time he’d seen her, her face had been heavily accented with make-up for the performance. Without it, her features were softer. A dancer’s true beauty was in the lines of her body and the way she moved. Her face was one that Han might never have noticed if he hadn’t seen her dance. Like the rest of her, its beauty was in movement. It was an expressive face, quick to show anger or amusement. Granted he’d seen more anger than any other emotion during their short acquaintance, but even that was beautiful in its intensity and fire. No one had ever schooled her to hide her emotions, to not let her face display her thoughts. It made one vulnerable to reveal so much, so easily.

When Li Feng performed, her expressions were coy and full of fire, but there was no such artifice now in stillness. Since he’d observed her so closely, the features which he might have considered plain or pleasant before took on a mysterious quality. Her eyelashes were long against her cheeks. Her skin was smooth, the tone of it warm with a natural flush. The shape and curves of her face were so subtle one might need to touch her to truly experience them.

He moved back, further away than he needed to, and seated himself on the grass opposite her. She opened her eyes, perhaps after sensing he had moved away, and had to lift both her arms to wipe her mouth with her sleeve. Then they just sat there, both watching each other warily.

‘Tell me how you caught Two Dragon Lo,’ she said after a pause.

His back stiffened. ‘Why would you want to know that?’

‘I want to hear your account.’

‘You mean whether I indeed walked on water or flew through the trees?’

She gave him a reluctant smile that was really just a twitch of her mouth.

Everyone asked him about the bandit lately and it seemed the stories were getting more fanciful no matter how much he denied them. Han settled his arm across his knees. ‘There isn’t much to say. I went into the woods to find him. We fought. I won.’

‘You don’t know how to tell a story, thief-catcher,’ she complained.

‘I think a more interesting story—’ he fixed his gaze on her ‘—would be why a girl who seems to like jade so much would steal it, yet not take any for herself. Save for one small trinket.’

She stared at him blankly, or at least she tried to. There was much, much more lurking there beneath the surface. If he could just feel along her smooth exterior, turn her this way and that to look for imperfections.

‘You were betrayed and cut out of the stake,’ he suggested.

Li Feng looked away, seemingly absorbed by the play of sunlight on the grass.

‘Your mother is aged and sick and you were stealing to save her,’ he threw out lightly.

Her gaze snapped back to him with a tinge of annoyance that told him he was wrong, but had hit upon something. ‘Is this effective, asking so many questions with no direction?’

His laugh was directed at himself. ‘I’ve actually been told by a very wise man that it is always best to say as little as possible.’

Criminals tended to reveal themselves. It was in their nature to want to confess, the crime staining their soul as it did.

‘I was only curious,’ he admitted. ‘And it’s a long way to Taining.’

Han usually wasn’t so interested in knowing the reasons behind the crime. That was for the tribunal to sort out, if the motivations of the accused were even pertinent. Han found that in most cases, the reasons were quite clear. Only in a few instances did the accused ever confound him. The bandit Lo was one. Wen Li Feng was another.

There was another reason Han wanted information. Once he handed the dancer over to the authorities in Taining, she would inevitably be questioned about her accomplices. If she was more forthcoming to him, she might avoid a more ruthless interrogation at the hands of the magistrate.

Li Feng shifted her weight from one shoulder to another against the tree, her bonds constricting her movement. The dancer was not one for remaining still.

‘Were you so cordial to Two Dragon Lo?’ she asked.

His stomach knotted. It was back to Lo again. He couldn’t escape the man. Han conjured the remote tavern in the hills and a long night of trading drinks and stories with a fellow traveller. The wine jug was nearly empty when they had raised their cups in a salute. Lo’s sleeve had fallen just enough to reveal the tail of a dragon.

‘You killed him,’ she remarked.

So the tale goes. ‘That wasn’t my intention. He was to be brought to trial like any other criminal.’

‘An outlaw like Lo would fight to the death rather than be taken alive.’

Her fascination with the bandit disturbed him. She spoke of killing and death too casually, with a worldly air that was unexpected in a young woman.

‘Lo was more than a common thief. He had been enlisted in the provincial army and trained to fight with sword and spear,’ Han explained. ‘He didn’t stop at attacking merchants on the open road. The bandit formed a gang of outlaws and started threatening local officials as well.’

‘You say that Two Dragon Lo needed to be stopped,’ she said. ‘He was growing in power and greedy for more.’

He didn’t quite understand Li Feng’s cynical expression. ‘Many of the local armies have been disbanded in recent years. The situation has left too many dangerous men wandering with no direction, no discipline.’

She snorted. ‘Do you know who truly controls Taining? Not the magistrate or his constables. The county is controlled by a man named Wang Shizhen, who regularly extorts bribes of jade and silver and gold.’

‘General Wang Shizhen is the appointed commander of the southern garrison,’ Han pointed out.

‘You say there are too many soldiers without wars to fight and no commanders to keep them in line.’ Her gaze was unflinching on him. ‘Some of them turn into bandits like Lo while others forcibly take control with their armies. Is there any difference between them?’

‘This is dangerous talk,’ he warned.

She shrugged, too easily. ‘Just talk.’

Theft was punishable by beating or servitude, depending on the circumstances, but rebellion was unpardonable. The province had been plagued by famine and flood over the last ten years, pushing desperate men to banditry or insurrection. His own family had suffered in the aftermath of a rebellion in Fuzhou province to the east.

The singular punishment for rebelling against the state was both harsh and swift: public execution by beheading.

‘Time to go,’ Han muttered, his stomach knotted tight.

‘Are you going to carry me?’ she taunted.

It was awkward between them with her bound as she was. He was reduced to behaving like a servant, seeing to her needs.

Li Feng shrank back as he went to kneel beside her. Han paused with his hand at her foot, a pose that with any other woman would have only been possible in a moment of intimacy. He heard the quickening of her breath and tension built along her very well-formed calf.

She was his prisoner, he reminded himself.

The conversation had revealed more about Wen Li Feng than he’d intended, though it shouldn’t have mattered. If she was a criminal, she deserved to be punished according to the law.

‘Don’t try to run,’ he warned through his teeth. Han cut away the rope at her ankles and dragged her up. ‘If you do, I’ll catch you and beat you myself.’

The town was a fledgling one that had sprouted up at a convenient distance between two larger cities. The main road cut between two rows of buildings: an inn, a few shops and a stable. There was little else to the place aside from a few huts built of wood and thatched with hay.

They stopped beside a road stand serving food and drink. Han had to once again assist as Li Feng dismounted with her wrists still tied in front of her. His hands rounded her waist before settling her on to the ground. She shot him a look, though he hardly deserved it. The touch was purely innocent. There was just no getting around the fact that he was a man and she a woman.

‘I need to use the privy,’ she said.

He expected as much. The grey-haired woman standing behind the cooking pot pointed to the back area. Han followed closely behind as Li Feng started towards the outhouse.

She cast him a slanted look. ‘You’re going to follow me there?’

‘This is when every prisoner attempts to escape.’

‘I need my hands at least.’

‘Absolutely not.’

She huffed at him, blowing a strand of hair away from her face in the process. With a gesture, he beckoned the serving woman over and gave her a coin.

‘Please assist this young lady,’ he directed.

The old woman nodded. As they disappeared inside the hut, Han circled around to make sure there was no way to escape out the back. Then he returned to the benches where he had a full view of the door. By the time the old woman and Li Feng returned, the table had been set with a pot of tea and two bowls of mixed rice. She settled down quietly on to the bench beside him.

‘I asked for a serving spoon,’ he said, feeling quite generous. ‘So you can feed yourself with your wrists tied.’

It wouldn’t be the most elegant of meals, but he was sure she could manage.

‘Thank you,’ Li Feng murmured, head down.

She sniffled. He bent to see her face which was suddenly hidden behind a veil of hair.

‘Have you been crying?’ he asked incredulously.

Her nose and eyes looked red and she ducked away even further from him. Her shoulders were slumped and defeated. Her sniffling grew more pronounced. This was quickly becoming embarrassing.

‘Li Fe—Miss Wen?’ It was awkward having to be so polite to a prisoner, but there was no other way to address a woman. ‘What is this?’

She pushed at him, flinging his hands away. ‘No. Don’t touch me!’

Heaven and Earth. ‘Stop this nonsense,’ he demanded.

She scrambled off the bench and cowered away. ‘Please don’t beat me again.’

Too late, Han realised a crowd had gathered by the stand. A crowd of rather concerned, rather angry-looking townspeople and some of them quite large. There was no chance to explain. Rough hands grabbed at him. He shoved them away, took a punch in the jaw, threw a couple of strikes of his own.

He drew his dao and a few of the men backed off, but not all of them. They were in a fervour. He was grappled from behind while two other men clawed for his weapon while swearing and calling him a kidnapper and a slaver.

‘She’s a thief!’ he growled, throwing another would-be hero off his back.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the serving woman cutting away Li Feng’s bonds with a kitchen knife. Li Feng wrestled the iron rings past her knuckles with no more effort than a couple of twists and turns. The chain was left behind in the grass like a lifeless black snake.

Damn his stupidity. With her training, he should have guessed she had that ability.

Han freed himself in time to see his former prisoner galloping into the distance, leaving a cloud of dust behind.

## Chapter Four

Li Feng walked through the front door of the public bath house, slipped the host a quick coin to assuage any protests about impropriety, and entered the dark and tepid interior.

Business was slow early in the morning. The day labourers and tradesmen who served as regular customers were hard at work, leaving the communal bath and lounging areas nearly empty. Steam hovered over a wide pool where several bathers, all male, lay soaking. No one gave her more than a cursory glance.

She slipped through the adjacent chambers, finally finding what she was looking for behind a bamboo screen.

Thief-catcher Han was reclined in a wooden tub behind the screen. His legs were bent, pulling his knees above the water line. His eyes were closed, head rested back against the rim, and his hair was untied and loose about his face. The effect, combined with the fullness of his lips, was disturbingly sensual.

It had been two days since her escape and she’d managed to evade him while still remaining close. She had been tied up and tossed about too many times by this scoundrel. This time, she had him at her mercy.

Han didn’t open his eyes even as she stood over him. His breathing remained deep and relaxed. It must be wonderful to feel so confident in one’s skin. To feel so safe without fear perpetually hanging overhead.

A light mist hung in the air. Through it, Li Feng let her eyes roam over the bared contours of his chest and shoulders, confirming what she’d known from the few times they’d battled. Zheng Hao Han was made of hard, unyielding muscle. The dark line of a scar curved from below his collar bone to disappear over his shoulder. It was the remnant of a blow that had just missed his throat. She found herself wondering who had made the wound and with what weapon?

She had practiced fighting stances for thousands upon thousands of days, had been forced to defend herself many times with the knife and the sword, yet she’d never suffered serious injury. It reminded her that Han had knowledge that she didn’t—knowledge of fierce battles survived—and that she should never overlook that or underestimate him.

‘A private bath, thief-catcher?’ she remarked lightly.

His eyes snapped open and he started, sending a cascade of water splashing on to the floorboards.

‘Wen Li Feng,’ he choked out. His hand gripped the edge of the tub and his muscles tensed all up his arm and throughout his body.

There was something both vulnerable yet undeniably virile about the sight of Han naked. Her tongue cleaved to the roof of her mouth. She attributed the warmth creeping up the back of her neck to the steam that surrounded her, dampening her skin. Needless to say, she was no longer thinking about battle scars.

She worked to keep her gaze on his face. ‘Your work must be quite profitable.’

His breathing had quickened and he fought to regain his composure. ‘You should be careful of your reputation, Miss Wen. Everyone will assume you are here to provide me an intimate service.’

Men’s bodies weren’t unknown to her. Li Feng had lived in close quarters with other performers. She might have lost her first kiss along with her virginity recently, but even before that she’d simply never learned to be shy. Despite having had a lover in the past, it was still a shock to see Thief-catcher Han’s naked form.

The two of them had wrestled, fought and had so much physical contact that now the sight of him unclothed completed the picture. Her knowledge of his body was nearly as intimate as a lover’s.

She moved to stand over him. All that shielded him from her view was a layer of bath water and the haze of steam. Neither the water nor the steam was clouded enough.

An unwelcome heat flooded her cheeks. She hoped it wasn’t accompanied by a blush that Han could see. Li Feng had chosen this particular location to confront him so she could finally have the thief-catcher at a disadvantage and she hated the thought of losing it.

‘You should know that I can track you as easily as you can track me.’

Han made no effort to curl up his knees to hide that part of himself. ‘You are relying on my sense of modesty to prevent me from capturing you right now,’ he said as he started to rise.

With a flick of her hand, she unsheathed the short sword hidden beneath her sleeve and pressed the tip to his chest. ‘I’m relying on this blade.’

His gaze remained on her, unflinching, but he did sink back into the tub. ‘Have you ever killed anyone, Miss Wen?’

She cocked her head. ‘You can be my first,’ she said with a smile.

His eyes darkened at that and the air thickened between them. She suddenly wished she had brought a longer blade. The length of the sleeve sword kept her too close to him. The point of it remained over his heart, pressing firmly against flesh without breaking skin. He seemed unafraid. She, by contrast, was suddenly very afraid. Not of him, but rather the skip of her pulse.

‘It is customary for disciples to take on the name of their shifu,’ he continued, as if they were conversing over tea. ‘Wen Zhong is the name of a renowned master of the Wudang sword style and rumoured to be a disciple of the Sword Immortal. I wondered if he was the one who trained you.’

‘I told you, I have no master. Why won’t you be done with it?’

‘I’m—’ He appeared troubled. ‘I’m curious about you.’

She didn’t quite know how to take that, but her stomach fluttered as his dark eyes moved over her. ‘For someone with the sword skills of a butcher, you seem to have much interest in the martial world.’

‘Even a butcher can appreciate an artist. I have respect for the old sword masters.’

Her master had chosen a solitary life of study and meditation which had been interrupted when he found her abandoned in the wilderness. When Li Feng had left him to seek out her past, she had vowed to herself not to drag him back into the affairs of the world. With so many rebellions, any form of training was looked upon with suspicion. Many of the ancient sects continued to teach in secret, becoming protective of their techniques and passing them on to a few select pupils.

‘Stay away from me,’ she warned. ‘And you should be careful when out in the open. There are many of the rivers and lakes who would consider it a great triumph to kill you.’

‘I’ll lose face if I let you go,’ he said. ‘My reputation is at stake.’

‘You have a reputation for being a mercenary and a scoundrel!’

He shrugged. Smiled. It was said that Thief-catcher Han had friends in every town and connections in high and low places. He was relentless, a touch arrogant and charming through it all.

‘You came here only to deliver that warning?’ he asked.

‘I don’t care what happens to you, thief-catcher. You took something from me and I want it back.’

His clothes were stacked on the stool beside the tub. He reached out and searched through the folds with one hand until he found her jade pendant.

‘A phoenix,’ he remarked. ‘Like your name.’

She kept her expression flat. ‘Give it to me.’

He caressed his thumb idly over the surface, the gesture unmistakably sensual, before tossing it to her. She caught it with her left hand, still keeping her sword trained on him.

‘Till next we meet,’ he said softly.

‘This will be the last time,’ she declared.

With the jade back in her possession, Li Feng had the link she needed to search for her past. This time she wouldn’t let anyone deter her, not a smooth-tongued rebel nor a relentless thief-catcher. She grabbed his clothes and threw them out the window before turning to leave.

The sword dancer disappeared after the incident at the bath house. None of his informants could locate her. A young woman travelling alone would have been easily noticed, but Li Feng didn’t appear at any more jade shops or inns or any of the common hideouts for those who made their home on the road. The worst of it was she could be anywhere. The rugged terrain of the province provided a landscape of mountains and valleys where outlaws could hide away from civil authorities. It was one of the reasons his profession was so lucrative in this region.

Li Feng had spoken of the world of rivers and lakes. It was a phrase common among outlaws that referred to the forests and open land outside the government-controlled cities as well as the unspoken code this community of dissidents abided by. The rivers-and-lakes world was a place of disorder and a dangerous world for a woman. It was a dangerous world for anyone.

As a thief-catcher, Han existed at the border between civility and lawlessness. It could even be said that he had thrived in it. To track down the most notorious of criminals, he needed to venture into their domain. Yet for this case, even his underworld confidants knew nothing.

According to the official account, the heist had been carefully organised and it was suspected that there were many hands involved. Han had assumed that he would find Li Feng and, through her, he’d track down the rest of them. But Li Feng had escaped and there was no sign of any accomplices.

The odd collection of musicians and dancers that had been imprisoned along with Li Feng proved to be harmless, just as he’d originally suspected. They had told him that she was a new addition to their troupe. She was a drifter and seemed to have moved among several different sets of performers. But she was trustworthy, they insisted. When their wagon had needed repairs, Li Feng had volunteered the funds without hesitation. She had paid in silver from her own stash.

Silver. If that sort of money wasn’t suspect enough, her pointed remarks about General Wang couldn’t be ignored.

Han had no choice but to return to the place where the theft had occurred and renew his investigation there.

When he reached the capital city of Taining, his search for the jade thieves proved much easier than anticipated.

One was being readied for execution in the public square.

The prisoner was kneeling, head bowed. His face had all but disappeared beneath a dark mask of bruised flesh. What was left was swollen beyond recognition. He wore a torn, stained tunic and leggings. A sizeable crowd had gathered around him. Depending on the nature of the crime, one could expect to hear taunts or insults from the onlookers, but in this case, the crowd remained quiet with no more sound than a tense murmur.

Han was surprised to see a broadsword in the executioner’s hands. Beheading was a particularly cruel punishment. It not only took the life of the accused, but defiled his body for the afterlife.

The executioner went to stand behind the condemned man and Han moved away, leaving the crowd behind to gawk as they would. He had witnessed one execution in his life and felt little need to witness another. He was far enough to avoid the thud of the blade, but not far enough to miss the collective gasp of the crowd, their voices united to expel the single breath they’d held since the executioner had raised his weapon.

It wasn’t the violence of death that disturbed him as much as the severity of the sentence given the crime. The code of law outlined specific punishments depending on the crime as well as the circumstances surrounding it, but sentencing was left to the discretion of the magistrate. Perhaps it was necessary to be harsh in these remote parts where lawlessness was more rampant.

Han sought out the magistrate’s yamen, hoping to gain access to the case report, but he wasn’t admitted much further than the front gates. He wasn’t all that surprised. A thief-catcher was slightly above a peasant or a day labourer in society and his presence was tolerated by the bureaucracy as an unpleasant necessity. He did manage to locate the constable who was on duty.

‘Zheng Hao Han?’ the constable echoed upon introductions.

The stout, middle-aged man looked over Han’s plain robe and the dao at his side, but gave no indication that he recognised the name.

‘I am looking into the matter regarding the jade thieves,’ Han began.

‘Ah! One of those scoundrels was executed just today.’

‘None of the others have been caught?’

‘Not one. They’ve probably run far away by now, if they have any sense.’

‘Then it was fortunate you were able to catch this one.’

The constable shook his head. ‘Not I. I have enough responsibility watching over the streets of this city.’

Surprisingly, the man seemed unconcerned about what was likely the most serious crime in his jurisdiction. The constable had a duty to pursue the culprits in a timely manner. Han stepped carefully as he tried to glean more information.

The crime had actually occurred one town over, a day’s travel from here. The shipment was accompanied by an armed security escort, which meant the thieves were bold enough to face trained fighters to get to the riches.

‘But no sword was ever drawn,’ the constable recounted. ‘They crept in, overpowered the night watch, and carried away enough jade to buy a palace. No one saw anything.’

‘No one was harmed? There were no injuries?’ Han questioned.

‘None.’

That was fortunate, for the sword dancer’s sake. ‘I had heard that the main suspects were a group of performers.’

‘Dancers and musicians!’ The constable sniffed sceptically. ‘They were drifters who were passing through. Easy to lay the blame on them.’

‘You had mentioned that you were not involved in the arrest.’

‘It was General Wang’s men that caught him.’ The constable shook his head. ‘Unfortunate fellow.’

Han bowed and thanked the constable. He was a stranger to this city, with no prior established contacts. So his next step was to visit the local tavern to make a few friends. There he learned a few details not in the report. Wang had a bounty for any man who recovered the jade or reported the thieves. The general had also sent several squadrons through the city as well as to adjacent towns to search for the stolen goods.

On the third cup of wine, two soldiers entered the tavern and came directly to his table. ‘General Wang looks forward to meeting the famous thief-catcher in person.’

Apparently the constable had recognised him. Han glanced up at the soldiers, who stood grim-faced and fully equipped with armour and weapons.

‘When?’ he asked.

‘Now.’

Han downed his drink in one swallow and stood.

He was brought to a pleasure house, a two-storey establishment lit with red lanterns and filled with music. The sound of female laughter rang from inside, like the chiming of bells. There were soldiers at the front entrance and more flanking the door to the banquet room. The entire building appeared to have been cleared out except for the general’s men.

Wang Shizhen was seated at a low table speaking with a handful of his lieutenants. He was dressed in a sumptuously embroidered robe. His shoulders were as broad as an ox’s and the lower half of his face was covered with a thick beard. He looked up and grinned as Han entered.

‘The famous thief-catcher!’

Wang was, on first glance, a much livelier and cheerful man than Han had expected. It immediately put him on guard.

‘General Wang.’ Han set palm to fist and bowed in proper deference.

‘Sit.’ The warlord spoke louder than he needed to be heard. He was a large man with gestures equally large. He rapped the spot at the table beside him and his lieutenants immediately shifted aside and took their leave.

A courtesan with painted lips bent to pour Han a cup of wine. Another moved to refill the general’s cup. Then they similarly receded to the edge of the room. Everything and everyone seemed to recede in the general’s presence.

‘I hear you’ve been trying to catch these jade thieves,’ Wang said.

‘I haven’t met any success, unfortunately. Not as successful as the general.’

He laughed at that. ‘You are one person. I have all the men under my command to seek out these scoundrels.’

‘It seems such a trivial task for a man of your stature.’ It took some effort for Han to navigate the web of flattery and humility that defined official discourse. If things had been different, he would have been educated in poetry and rhetoric and become versed in such slippery conversation. As it was, he knew enough to keep from being immediately dismissed by his betters.

‘It’s my responsibility to maintain order in the province. Otherwise such outlaws would run rampant.’

‘The accused didn’t reveal any of his accomplices?’

‘Not a one. Surprisingly strong-willed, for a common criminal.’ He drank, obviously displeased to have to report failure.

Han recalled the bruises on the face of the accused. The man had been beaten and broken before he was executed. The thought of Li Feng ending up in the general’s custody left Han cold.

‘If I may be so bold—’ Han had to be careful here. Men like Wang Shizhen didn’t tolerate their authority being questioned. ‘I was surprised that the magistrate would decide on a sentence of death for theft.’

‘Well, it was an extraordinary amount of treasure that was stolen. And there was no need for a tribunal when the outcome was obvious. The thief had the stolen jade on him.’

Han nodded slowly. He even lifted his cup to mirror Wang’s gesture and drank in accordance.

‘If you ever need a position, you come to me,’ Wang offered, happy with drink. ‘I can use a warrior like you. These bandits are getting out of control, attacking boats and raiding our supplies.’

‘That is very generous of the general,’ Han replied, keeping his tone neutral.

He waited with fists clenched until he could finally disengage himself. Han exited the drinking house into the cool evening. The streets were quiet with Wang’s men scattered here and there as they patrolled the corners. As far as he’d seen, the soldiers far outnumbered the civilians in the city.

Justice was meant to be dispensed with a balance of forcefulness and restraint. The proper procedure required careful inquiry and evidence. Han knew that there were repercussions for officials who neglected their duties just as there were punishments prescribed for criminals who disobeyed the laws. It was clear that the local magistrate had lost control of the district—or had had control wrested from him.

The conversation with Li Feng came back to him. Was there any difference between Two Dragon Lo and a man like Wang Shizhen?

There was no denying that Wang was a power-hungry warlord. He ruled over the county without any adherence to the codes of government. His garrison, who was supposed to protect the citizens, was instead used to intimidate them. And General Wang continued to recruit more men to its ranks. His power had grown to the point that the civil government had no control over him.

Han might be a thief-catcher by profession, but his father had held an appointed office at one time. There was no crime worse than the abuse of power. A common bandit might steal a sack of grain or a string of coins from an individual, but a dishonest bureaucrat stole from the entire population.

The authorities here would be no further help. If Han wanted the truth, he would have to seek it elsewhere and he had the urge to leave this place before the taint of corruption reached its infected and withered hand out to him.

It was impossible for Han to gain access to the official report, if any report was ever taken. Instead he relied on the unofficial account from the locals. The man that Wang Shizhen had executed had been a labourer who had been found with a jade bracelet hidden in his room. Despite rigorous interrogation, he had neither revealed the location of the other missing pieces, nor the names of his accomplices. The other labourers in the man’s tenement said he kept to himself.

Han recalled that the constable had mentioned that a biaoju, an armed-escort service, had been hired to guard the shipment. Apparently, the outfit had been hired out of Nanping. He joined up with a merchant who was headed there and arrived at the headquarters three days later.

The signboard over the doorway read ‘Zhao Yen Security’ and the walls in the main room were conspicuously decorated with an array of swords, crossbows and other weapons.

‘Thief-catcher Han,’ the head man acknowledged after introductions.

‘Sharpshooter Zhao.’

Zhao laughed. They fell into the easy camaraderie of weaponkind, but Zhao’s expression darkened when the jade heist was mentioned.

‘We were en route. The shipment was secured in one of our storehouses—we use them for very important cargo. The thieves bypassed the outer guard patrol and broke in.’

‘They took the shipment without a fight?’

Zhao took some offence at that. ‘We had two guards stationed inside. Wu and Lin are strong fellows. Both trained fighters. They claimed the thieves materialised like ghosts, black as night as they dropped from the rafters. Now my fellows wouldn’t admit this easily, but they were disarmed and overpowered before they could sound any alert.’

The thieves would have had the element of surprise as well as the advantage of launching an attack from higher ground.

‘This was why acrobats were suspected,’ Han remarked.

‘There was a troupe passing through town. The authorities figured with their skills, they might have been able to scale the walls and enter through the roof.’ Zhao rubbed at his neck, embarrassed. ‘I told the constable he was mistaken. No bunch of performers could defeat my men. These thieves were highly skilled and quite deadly.’

Han excused the man’s flair for the dramatic. Of course Zhao would have to insist that the band of thieves that overpowered his security force possessed extraordinary powers. He was at risk of losing face.

‘Do you have a record of everything in the shipment?’ Han asked.

‘It’s in the manifest.’ Zhao went behind the counter and rifled through a drawer, finally producing a scroll which he handed over.

Han scanned the list of valuables. Jade and gold, assessed at a value equalling a hundred bolts of silk. Among the items was a set of three carved pendants. Three was an odd number for such a set. The classic grouping was usually four. Han read through the descriptions: dragon, tiger, tortoise.

Also notable was the lack of any jade bracelets.

‘Your record keeper does good work,’ Han commented.

Zhao nodded with a grunt. ‘This is a serious business. We’re more than just another band of rabble carrying clubs.’

With the rise of bandits and outlaws, the armed-escort business was flourishing along with the thief-catching business. Too many undisciplined warriors about with no wars to fight.

The scroll contained additional information. The names of the sender and the recipient. Both go-betweens.

‘I suspect the final recipient was likely Wang Shizhen,’ Zhao said.

Han concurred. The general certainly had a great interest in recovering the stolen goods. The person who had enlisted Zhao’s services was a man by the name of Cai Yun. Why would an individual from another prefecture send so much wealth to General Wang?

There was definitely something more than a simple theft at work here and somehow Li Feng was entangled in it. He sincerely wished that she wasn’t. Han had come across some of the worst outlaws and Li Feng didn’t belong among them. Despite her talk of rebellion, she was motivated by honour and self-sacrifice. Why else would she give up her own silver to assist others? Or reach out to rescue a thief-catcher who would turn around and make life difficult for her?

‘Do you know anything more about this Cai Yun?’ Han asked.

‘He paid in advance and appeared well off. He’s petitioning for us to forfeit our fee as well as incur an additional dishonour penalty for failure to deliver.’

Zhao cursed a little. Han gave his sympathies.

‘It’s unusual to see a thief-catcher so dedicated,’ Zhao said. ‘They say you’ve never let a criminal get away.’

That was a new addition to his ever-growing story. ‘I do what I can,’ he replied humbly.

‘Hmmph. Find these thieves and I’ll add to your capture money. The penalty on such a shipment would bleed us dry.’

Han left the headquarters with the name of the man who had hired the security escort, but few answers otherwise. Li Feng was more than capable of the feat Zhao had described. He’d seen her leaping on to rooftops and if she could deftly slip out of locked buildings, she could just as easily sneak into them. That information by itself wasn’t enough to condemn her.

There was only one piece of evidence that connected her to the crime—though it appeared she had been telling the truth about it. The four celestial animals were a popular motif in artwork: the Green Dragon, the White Tiger, and the Black Tortoise. The final animal in the quartet was the Vermilion Bird. It looked very much like a phoenix.

## Chapter Five

The lanterns of the Pavilion of the Singing Nightingale were always lit, night or day. The doors were always open and no matter when a visitor walked through, they were always greeted by the most elegantly dressed and graceful of ladies. The Singing Nightingale was located in a busy river port located along the Min and served as a crossroads for merchants and travelling officials.

The journey from Taining had taken a week, during which he pondered the possibilities. The thieves could have masqueraded as a dance troupe to get close to the warehouse without raising suspicion. Li Feng was certainly connected to the shipment in some way, but her pendant wasn’t stolen. Han was all the more determined to pursue her just to unravel the mystery she presented.

Finally, the shipment itself was suspicious. It certainly appeared to be a bribe or payment, but for what? Hopefully his contacts in town would be able to provide more insight. Han was nearly out of leads.

According to Zhao, the head of the security escort, the jade shipment had been transported by riverboat from its origin and had changed hands at this port from the mysterious Cai Yun over to the armed guards. Fortunately, Han was familiar with the area and immediately identified the Singing Nightingale as the sort of establishment a wealthy man would visit while in town. It was a brothel with aspirations and attempted to recreate the atmosphere of refinement found in the pleasure houses of the larger cities.

Han had the honour of being greeted by the lovely and talented Lotus. In age, she was perhaps just past the height of spring, but not yet in her autumn years. She would never admit to a number in regard to her age and Han had politely never asked.

Lotus still remained one of the leading beauties of the pavilion and served as hostess for the wealthiest and most distinguished of patrons. In Han’s case, neither applied. Lotus liked hearing dramatic tales of adventures and villains and heroes. Han always thought she enjoyed his company for that reason—though Lotus had made a lifelong profession out of convincing men she sincerely enjoyed their company.

‘Zheng Hao Han.’ Her fine silk robe brushed against him as she took his arm. A light cloud of perfume encircled him. She was all that was soft and feminine and elegant as she led him into a sitting area. ‘It’s been so long, I was certain you had forgotten about me.’

Her tone was mildly reproachful, but it was all part of the game. He apologised and professed that he could never forget her while the attendants brought wine and small dishes of boiled peanuts, scallion cakes and other refreshments.

‘What can you tell me about a man named Cai Yun? I already know he’s been here,’ he prompted as he detected the slight flicker in her expression as she considered his request.

Lotus pursed her lips prettily. ‘Will you say nice things about me?’ she bargained.

‘Of course.’

‘A man by that name has visited on occasion. Well dressed, well mannered. He seems to have money, but doesn’t brag too much about it.’ The courtesan paused and shot him a sly look. ‘Very nice things?’ she insisted.

Newfound fame had its benefits. ‘You’ll be notorious.’

She leaned in close, most likely so he could be ensnared by the sight of her graceful neck and the low cut of her bodice. ‘He seems to always be meeting with rather important-looking men. Merchants and the local official of this or that.’

‘Is this Cai Yun an aristocrat of some sort?’ That would explain the wealth and Lotus had an instinct for pouncing on such patrons.

She shook her head. A pearl ornament in her hair danced as she did so. ‘He has no name that I know of,’ she said coyly. ‘But one of his guests last month was someone noteworthy.’

He gave her an equally coy look. ‘Who could that be?’

‘The agent overseeing the district branch of the Salt Commission.’

That bit of information sparked his thief-catcher instinct immediately. The Salt Commission controlled the buying and selling of salt throughout the empire, managing the prices and taxes on it through countless offices. Agents travelled into even the most remote locations of the empire to enforce the commission’s policies. The salt trade and its taxes were a significant source of revenue for the government, and consequently spawned an entire underworld of illegal activity. Han had apprehended his share of salt smugglers.

Lotus draped an arm casually around his neck. ‘Now tell me what evil deed he committed to warrant your attention.’

She was so close that she was nearly in his lap, all because she genuinely liked him, of course. Despite the flirtation, Han knew he was unlikely to be invited into Lotus’s bedchamber. She was very selective about her lovers, enjoying the attentions of notable scholars and officials. They were friendly enough, however, that he was able to take hold of her chin to direct her eyes to his. He wanted a clear view of her expression for his next enquiry.

‘When I first mentioned Cai Yun, you looked surprised. As if you’d encountered some coincidence.’

She tried to look innocent now. ‘What do you mean?’

A silhouette passed by the outside of the curtain that divided the sitting room from the main hall. He wasn’t able to discern much more than a shadow. Definitely not a face or distinct form. But the quality of the movement sparked something in him.

‘Who was that?’ he asked.

Lotus laughed lightly. ‘You’re trying to make me jealous, Han.’

‘Lotus.’ The one word served as admonishment and enquiry.

‘The new girl.’ She shrugged, handing him a cup of wine. ‘There’s not much to say about her.’

Lotus wasn’t jealous. Han would have to be an imperial minister of the first rank to make it worthwhile for Lotus to be jealous.

‘Does she dance?’ he asked, his tone casual.

The courtesan smiled at him slyly. ‘You are single-minded when something catches your eye, aren’t you?’

‘I’d like to talk to her.’

At that, Lotus tilted her head obligingly and stood. She glided from the room without any further attempt to deflect. She was as smooth as silk and cunningly accommodating. Han took his time finishing the wine before setting his cup down and following her through the curtain.

Lotus was already coming back down the main staircase. ‘She isn’t feeling well—’

‘How caring of you.’

Heedlessly, Han moved past the courtesan and continued up towards the private chambers on the second floor. He had a certain instinct when it came to this sort of thing. The first door he opened revealed a group of scholars listening to a pipa player. He opened the second door to the sight of the ‘new girl’ trying to climb out the window.

Han grabbed hold of an ankle and she fell back on to the bed in a tangle of blue silk and gauze. She squirmed and struggled as he brushed aside the sleeve that had fallen over her face. He only caught a flash of dark, glittering eyes before Li Feng twisted beneath him.

She rolled on to her side and the unexpected shift in momentum threw him off of her. He’d forgotten how agile she was. With a rustle of silk, Li Feng was on top of him, her forearm shoved against his chest.

‘Always you!’ she seethed.

She was dressed like a courtesan, in one of those robes that appeared to be made out of paper-thin cloth and air. The silk had fallen from her shoulders, revealing smooth bare skin from her throat to the topmost swell of her breasts. It was too long of a pause before he could drag his gaze upwards. Her eyes narrowed at him, fully aware that he’d been staring at her.

He grabbed hold of her wrist and yanked, causing her to collapse over his chest. Li Feng recovered quickly and clawed at his face. From there, it became a brawl, more cat and dog than tiger and dragon. Finally, he took hold of a handful of silk and flipped her on to her back.

‘I don’t—’ he lifted his head to avoid a swipe ‘—want to hurt you.’

Li Feng was breathing hard and her cheeks were flushed with colour. Her hands shot up before he could trap them. Instead of gouging his eyes out, Li Feng slipped past his guard to bury her fingers into his hair. She kept her gaze on him as she ruthlessly dragged his head down. Before Han knew what was happening, his mouth was pressed against soft, inviting lips.

His hands fell to the bed on either side of her, his fingers curling reflexively into the bedding. She tasted of cinnamon and the faint tang of cloves. Though he was positioned over her, his weight pinning her legs, he was the one that felt trapped. This was a ploy, he told himself, while his body greedily strained against her.

Han lifted his head forcibly. ‘At any moment, you’re going to slit my throat,’ he muttered, his voice deep with desire.

There was a glint in her eyes that was both predatory and playful. ‘Perhaps.’

Her hands cradled either side of his face. She stroked his cheek and senselessly their lips were joined once again, breath against heated breath. Her body arched into him. He knew how strong Li Feng was, but right now she was perfectly pliant, moulding herself to him. All of the blood in his body rushed to his lower half. What little remained in his head told him that if he was about to die, he completely deserved it for being so stupid.

He ran his hand along her arm and another down her calf. Beneath the slide of silk, he could make out both the sword in her sleeve and a dagger beneath her skirt. As expected. Already, he knew her so well.

‘You have a strange way of making love,’ she said.

‘We are not—’ It took some effort to breathe. ‘Making love.’

‘But, Hao Han—’

The breathless way she spoke his name stroked like fingers down his spine. He took hold of her wrists as she started to embrace him.

He pinned her arms on either side of her head. ‘Stop this.’

He was painfully hard and trying to fight it. Li Feng chuckled, pleased with herself and mocking him. She’d only been teasing apparently, which was—

‘Damned stupid,’ he growled. ‘Any other thief-catcher would have taken advantage.’

‘But you aren’t any other thief-catcher. What do you think of it, Zheng Hao Han? If I seduce you, will you let me go?’

She no longer looked playful. She looked serious and it made him even angrier.

‘I may find you pretty. I may even desire you, but that only strengthens my conviction that I must bring you in.’

She rolled her eyes, lips pouted. ‘So honourable.’

Not so honourable. Despite his lofty speech, his body was fully aroused. Her lips were red and she was wearing that ridiculous robe that clung to her breasts and waist and made her look like a goddess floating in water. The thin layers of silk revealed too much skin and at the same time not enough. It was hardly fair.

‘Justice is justice,’ he gritted out.

‘Well, then,’ she murmured against his ear before nipping at it. Those long, strong, exquisitely shaped legs were curving around him, urging him into oblivion. ‘Bed me anyway.’

Every muscle in Han’s body tensed above her.

‘Li Feng.’ He was hoarse, his tone a warning.

‘This bed is so much more comfortable than a prison cell.’

She wasn’t sure why she said it. Maybe it was just an attempt to torment him further. Thief-catcher Han was so difficult to take off balance. But the jest was her own undoing because suddenly she was considering it.

Would it be so very bad? A sweet ache took hold of her. She moved her hips in a restless little circle.

Han’s pupils darkened and suddenly she was crushed beneath him. He dragged her hands over her head and kissed her. Really kissed her, with his tongue stroking deep until her body heated and her limbs turned to liquid beneath him.

It wouldn’t be bad at all. It would be so very good.

She knew the dangers of rushing headlong into an affair, but it was hard to heed her own warnings with Han on top of her, anchoring her so perfectly with his mouth caressing hers. For once, she didn’t want to run. She wanted very much to stay.

What was his relentless pursuit of her, if not some strange courtship? They’d fought, but he had never hurt her. And she had a sense he never would, not willingly. She admired him as a worthy foe. And after seeing him naked in the bath house, so beautifully masculine with his skin gleaming, she might have had a few dreams about how he would kiss.

He was better than the dreams.

She wanted to slip her fingers beneath his robe and stroke every line and contour she’d seen exposed in the bath house, but her hands were still trapped. She moved restlessly within his iron grip.

‘Let go,’ she urged softly.

‘If I release you, you’re going to do something to me and it’s going to hurt.’

She wanted to laugh. She wanted to devour him. ‘What if I promise not to?’

‘Li Feng.’ His voice was rough, with an urgency that made her shiver.

He kept her trapped as he kissed her nose, her chin, the hollow of her throat. His mouth sank to the line of her bodice. His lips closed on the area just over her nipple and the scrape of his teeth through the cloth made her arch up desperately against him.

Maybe this was worth prison. She could just escape again … later.

Han went still and she realised she’d spoken aloud. He laid his forehead against her breast and gradually lowered his hands from her wrists. It was a silent and momentary truce and she wasn’t quite certain what to do with it.

After many heartbeats, Han spoke. ‘We must have known each other in a former life. Fate keeps on bringing us together.’

‘We keep on meeting because you keep hunting me down,’ she said with a scowl.

He lifted his head and gave her a look that bordered on fondness. The grin transformed his rough features into something delightfully compelling, almost wicked. Her skin flushed and heat pooled in her belly. His smile did more to disarm her than the kiss.

‘What are you looking for, Wen Li Feng?’ he asked, completely serious.

For just a moment between them, all pretence was gone. ‘There is something I need to find out. Something that happened a long time ago.’

She was no longer trying to torment or seduce him, though his weight did feel unforgivably wonderful over her. She hated being trapped or confined, but she felt none of that fear as he held her now. There was almost a familiarity to it. A strange comfort in Han’s strength and his control over it.

‘I went to Taining,’ he said. ‘What you said about Wang Shizhen being a tyrant might be true, but that doesn’t absolve you of guilt.’

A thief-catcher to the bone. She wriggled out of his grasp and Han let her go without a struggle. Once again, she had been fooled by the natural pull of yin and yang. They weren’t friends. They weren’t anything, though she was disturbed to find she missed the feel of his arms around her. Just a little.

‘What do you want, Hao Han? No thief-catcher works this hard to chase a warrant.’

‘To know the truth. I know your pendant wasn’t part of the heist.’

‘It was given to me.’

‘By whom?’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she insisted.

But it did. Don’t cry, her mother had pleaded. Li Feng wouldn’t surrender the memory of their last moments together over to him. He was nothing but a man whom she had found intriguing two seconds ago.

Her irrational attraction to danger had got the best of her again. No matter how much she liked the look of him, she had to remember that Han was still a bastard thief-catcher and she couldn’t trust him. The momentary feeling of being close to someone, of feeling secure, was an illusion. She should know that after her disastrous affair with Bao Yang.

She straightened. Her sword was in quick reach if he made any movement towards her. ‘It seems our truce is over.’

‘One of the jade thieves was caught last week,’ he told her. ‘He was beheaded.’

She stopped cold. ‘Beheaded?’

Li Feng started away from him, but was only able to move as far as the other side of the bed. She wanted to believe that she was afraid of nothing, but it was far from true. Her pulse pounded and the urge to run took hold of her.

‘It was General Wang,’ he said.

She hadn’t stolen the jade out of greed or even out of necessity. None of them had. The theft was one act in a string of minor attacks against the warlord. The main goal was to disrupt Wang Shizhen’s activities to keep him from seizing more power within the province.

The danger hadn’t seemed real until that moment. At the time, the heist had seemed a grand challenge and that angry part inside of her had wanted to strike out at something to make up for all that had been taken from her.

At one time, she had believed deeply in the cause, but it was no longer her battle. Bao Yang, the leader of the rebels, had drawn her into his cause with his lethal charm. She regretted becoming so involved now.

Han watched her reaction. ‘There was someone else at the head of it, wasn’t there? If you were misguided or coerced—’

With every word and every action, he was testing her. She needed to understand where exactly they stood with one another.

‘Are you still pursuing me over the jade?’ she demanded.

‘I’m interested in much more than that, Miss Wen,’ he replied, keeping his eyes locked on hers.

She gave him an evil-eye at the double meaning. ‘Scoundrel.’

The corner of his mouth twitched.

They were interrupted by a booming voice in the front hall. Footsteps marched downstairs. Han moved to the door and opened it just a crack before returning to her.