Page 47 of The Wind Dancer
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As a healer, Mei Lin lived in the Garden of the Nine Gates, and if I kept visiting her so often, people might start to wonder why. Being the subject of questions was dangerous, something I would have preferred to avoid, but apparently I couldn’t.
The bartender nodded politely at me, then his gaze lingered on the turtle-shell comb wrapped in green silk in my hands, and his eyebrow slowly rose.
“Oho... looks like yesterday went well for you,” he said, taking a sip of tea from his large cup, his eyes flicking once more to the comb. “Brought her a gift already, huh? You’ve been busy. Our girls are already asking where you’ve disappeared to. You haven’t visited them at all.”
“You’d have to be a fool to miss your chance with her. You’ve seen how she is.”
He laughed merrily at that. “Good luck, kid. Tell me how it goes.”
I looked him straight in the eye and smiled.
“She’s more dangerous than a dagger... and hotter than a flame.”
He chuckled in response, but I wasn’t in the mood for laughs.
I knocked gently and was invited in almost immediately.
Mei Lin’s room was gently lit by a few candles, their flames casting strange shadows on the walls. The thick curtains were drawn, shielding the room from the morning sun.
The air was saturated with the scent of jasmine and something warm, spicy, which made the heart beat faster. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing only a light robe. The fabric gently cascaded down her body, tracing her lovely curves.
Her midnight black hair was loose, and a few strands gently fell in front of her shoulders. She looked as though she had just woken up, but her dark eyes told me she was alert and ready to talk.
I stepped in, feeling the wind pushing me forward. Its voice, usually quiet and distant, was now louder, more insistent. It whispered to me in a language I didn’t understand, but I could feel it in my body. Mei Lin looked up at me, and a slight smile touched her lips.
“Feng Lao,” she said, her voice as soft as the rustle of wind through spring leaves. “You came to see me again. Are you feeling ill?”
Heavens, she was so beautiful, for a second I completely forgot that she was my boss and the Claw Lord of the Secret Chancellery. I grinned, her coy words making my blood run hot. She knew perfectly well why I was here, but it seems she was in a playful mood.
“No,” I replied, taking a step forward. “But perhaps I need your... special treatment.”
She laughed, and the sound was like a melody of bells. She leaned on her elbows, the silk robe went taut on her chest, and I couldn’t help but stare. The fabric slid due to the movement, revealing her long legs. I felt the wind swirl around me, as if reacting to her.
“How can I refuse to help?” she said, playing with a lock of her hair. “I’m a very dedicated healer after all...”
I moved even closer, the scent of candles and smoldering incense mixed with the jasmine.
“This is for you,” I said, offering her the comb.
“You have good taste.” She studied it in silence. A faint satisfaction flickered in her eyes. She slowly stroked the polished surface, and I felt my heart beat a bit harder.
“It seems like you were trained in more than just combat. Your knowledge of symbolism is impressive.” I smiled at her compliment.
My gift spoke volumes in the noble language of symbols. The turtle shell represented strength, order, and stability. Acomb helped to gather hair and thus meant that we were connected. And at the same time, this was an extremely personal item, implying that our affairs were on the edge of decency.
“It is a reminder of common goals.”
“Well put. I take it that you have new information?”
“I do. Elder Fu Shang wanted to talk to me and sent his disciples to pick me up.”
“Judging by the fact that you’re here, I’ll assume that it didn’t go as they planned?” She smiled playfully.
“I had topolitelyremind them that my status had changed. I had set a more convenient time for the meeting myself.”
“I love it when a man takes initiative. You’re very interesting, Feng Lao.” Her words sounded very, very promising, but I couldn’t allow myself to forget who she was.
