Page 62 of The Wind Dancer
She nodded, and within moments, I had a stack of high-quality rice paper, a fine brush, and a small inkwell made of the purest silver. Without even thinking, I noted it could fetch a small fortune. I would have been itching to steal it before, but things had changed.
I sat down at a table, placed the paper and ink in front of me, and took a deep breath. An imaginary key turned, and the doors of my memory palace swung open before me.
While I was getting ready to write, she sat across from me, propping her chin up on her palm. Her dark eyes followed my every move.
The most difficult thing was to start writing the first character. It became easier with every brushstroke, and neat columns started filling the page. The brush moved faster and faster, until it moved at lightning speed. I pulled out the traces of my mentor from the depths of my mind, jotting down his work, his thoughts, all written in his handwriting.
Mei Lin stopped breathing. I noticed her gaze change, how her fingers gripped a lock of hair. She was reading. And I realized she saw his handwriting in mine.
I wrote without stopping. Character after character filled the papers. All the schemes, all the contacts, all the corrupt officials. At some point, I fell into a trance. I didn’t know how much I wrote. But I was brought out of it by the soft sound ofMei Lin getting up. A few minutes later, the smell of tea filled the room.
The wind swirled around me. It told me I had chosen correctly.
When I finished the last stroke, silence filled the room. I raised my head. She was staring at me intently, holding a tray with cups of tea on it. She slowly put it on the table, came up to me, and hugged me, softly whispering:
“Thank you for making the right choice.”
***
Everyone had their own rituals for getting their thoughts in order. For my mentor, it was a tea ceremony. He was the one who taught me how to make good tea and the right brewing techniques. I was able to become good at this art, but I was still far from true mastery.
Sharpening knives was a different story. I could go toe to toe with the best smiths around. The masters of the previous dynasty said:“A good blade doesn’t just cut the flesh, it can cut the shadow as well.”These words stuck with me from a young age, and now I made my daggers sharper than most men believed was possible.
It was truly an artform to turn a piece of metal into something that could kill. When your life depended on your blades, you strove to make them perfect. And I achieved this ideal. It was precise, monotonous work which I could do so well now that I could let my mind wander and the practiced movements would happen reflexively.
I moved the blade over the grindstone, feeling the metal grow smoother. “You can only trust yourself and your blade.” That was what they said on the streets, and I believed them.
Just like how I believed that dealing in death was the most profitable trade in this city.
Fu Shang revealed things that the Upper City preferred to sweep under the rug. The cult controlled the flow of black lotus and other drugs. They were using them to destroy people’s will, and if they overdosed, the cult would use them for their hellish plots. The biggest issue was the money. The dirty money that would stain everything it touched, even the priests were corrupted by it.
Black lotus was a commodity for nobles. But not even the most lecherous of them would dirty their hands with trading it. They had people for that. All of their contracts and deals were squeaky clean. The cargo boxes of drugs were marked as rare spices. Black lotus bundles were just dried seaweed. The money went into the hands of merchants, intermediaries, and only after moving through a chain of new registrations did it finally end up in the coffers of respected families.
I could feel the knife taking shape with every move. First, I worked with big motions, getting the rough shape while getting the surface smoother. Then I moved on to a smoother stone and used more precise movements, making the surface finer and finer.
The smell of hot metal hung in the air, mixing with the aroma of oil. My hands instinctively found the perfect angle for a wickedly sharp blade.
With one final sweep on the smoothest stone, the blade sang. The faint ringing was like a distant sigh.
It was ready now.
And so was I.
The Diang House supply log I stole, the final mission my mentor gave me before his death, pointed to the same middlemen my mentor had records of. The notes informed me that they were protected by people from the capital. I shared what I believed to be the essential parts with Mei Lin and hinted that the logs might theoretically be in my hands as well. Yet I still didn’t know how much I could trust her. On one hand, without her help, exposing this filth would’ve been impossible. On the other, I wanted to remain in control of the situation and of my own life.
The log listed variousitems. Girls, young men, children. I immediately remembered my first kill, the bastard I had stabbed to stop him from selling me. At that time, I didn’t know that my mentor had been watching and was ready to intervene in case things went wrong. But I could handle myself. I kept myself safe with the very daggers that I loved to sharpen.
I plucked out a hair and dropped it on the blade. The hair split in two. I smirked. It was definitely ready.
The live goods had disappeared into the Pleasure Gardens.
From the outside, there were serene oases surrounded by dark wood walls, with ponds full of golden carp and gazebos draped in wisteria. Intricate lanterns cast a soft light, and a cool breeze carried the scent of lotus. But it all existed only to hide the horrors.
There were cages inside. They were sturdy and had locks that couldn’t be opened with a simple lockpick. Inside were people in collars, with brands on their shoulders. Some were drugged with potions, turning them into obedient dolls. Others were given to clients whose vile desires knew no bounds. Those who delighted in debauchery and the art of pain. The screams were drowned out by the music, and no one but the owners knew how many lives had ended in these gardens.
The wind embraced me, as if whispering that I wasn’t alone. That I should strike where it hurts the most. And I knew that for these bastards that would be their money.
Taking a deep breath, I sheathed the dagger and went to see Mei Lin. We were going to have a chat with Lian Rui’s assistant tonight.
