amber eyes gleamed.
“How?”
“Your mother was interested in languages. She was educated. Being a favorite of the Emperor’s, she was allowed to be tutored. Your father was one of her tutors. This went against all rules. But it showed how high she was in the Emperor’s favor.
Your father never mentioned the romance, but I suspected.
They were foolish. They fell in love.” Master Tan raised one palm and spread his fingers, as if it was all he could offer.
Chen Yong was quiet. Ai Ling sipped her tea, trying to quell the thundering in her own chest.
“Are they alive still?” Chen Yong asked.
The older man shook his head. “I’ve not received correspondence from your father in more than fifteen years. As for your mother, I know nothing. I wish I could tell you more.” He spoke with regret.
How would an imperial concubine survive such a scandal? Ai Ling kept the foreboding thought to herself. Chen 62
S I LV E R P H O E N I X
Yong’s face was a mask now, devoid of all emotion. He sat straight-backed against his chair, hands clutching each armrest so tightly his knuckles were pale. Ai Ling looked away, filled with sympathy for him, not knowing how to help.
Master Tan rose. “Please, I insist that you stay for the night.
We have plenty of room. Please eat. Don’t be modest.”
A young man of twenty years stepped into the main hall and greeted their host.
“Ah, Fei Ming. I was just going to visit you and the little one. This is my son,” Master Tan clapped the young man on the back. “And he just had one of his own. My first grandson.”
Ai Ling and Chen Yong both offered their congratulations.
“Chen Yong is the son of an old friend. And this is Ai Ling.”
Fei Ming made no reply. He avoided looking at either guest. Ai Ling’s scalp crawled. Was his the face she’d seen peering through the lattice panel earlier?
“Lan Hua will take you to your rooms when you’re ready.
We can talk again tomorrow morning, Chen Yong. I kept your father’s letters. They are yours if you like. I bid you good night.”
Master Tan and Fei Ming stepped out of the main hall.
Chen Yong was terse, withdrawn. Although Ai Ling had felt hungry earlier, she yearned for sleep now. The world seemed askew. She was grateful when Lan Hua led her to 63
Cindy Pon
her room. It was spacious, with a large bed hidden behind silk drapes. She was too tired to change. The servant girl helped her climb into bed. So kind, Ai Ling thought somewhere in the haze of her mind as she fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.
64
C H A P T E R S I X
Ai Ling woke on the hard ground. She looked around, bleary eyed, unable to sit up. Her wrists were bound together in front of her with rough rope. She wriggled her fingers, the rope chafing her skin; her hands responded to her will as if from a distance, both tingling and numb.
“You’re awake.”
She jerked her head toward the voice. Fei Ming towered over her.
“Why—”
But before she could continue, he yanked her to her feet.
She swayed, light-headed and nauseated. He held her with strong arms, and she leaned into him despite herself.
65
Cindy Pon
“You got something special in your tea. Lan Hua did what she was told.”
“Where are we?” Ai Ling asked. She tried to swallow, and her stomach heaved.
“Somewhere private.” Fei Ming’s reply was guttural.
It looked like an abandoned temple. A bright lantern cast a cone of light about them. The moon’s rays spilled through the paneless windows. The night was quiet.
“Enough talk. I’ve been hungering for a taste of you.”
She tried to scream, but her throat felt too constricted, her tongue too thick. Glowing green eyes stared back at her. Just like the lake. Ice-cold terror shuddered through her.
Fei Ming spun her around and shoved her down onto the dirt floor. He had unbound her hair, and it swept across her face. He grabbed a handful and pulled her head back.
“I want you to be awake for this,” he whispered in her
“How?”
“Your mother was interested in languages. She was educated. Being a favorite of the Emperor’s, she was allowed to be tutored. Your father was one of her tutors. This went against all rules. But it showed how high she was in the Emperor’s favor.
Your father never mentioned the romance, but I suspected.
They were foolish. They fell in love.” Master Tan raised one palm and spread his fingers, as if it was all he could offer.
Chen Yong was quiet. Ai Ling sipped her tea, trying to quell the thundering in her own chest.
“Are they alive still?” Chen Yong asked.
The older man shook his head. “I’ve not received correspondence from your father in more than fifteen years. As for your mother, I know nothing. I wish I could tell you more.” He spoke with regret.
How would an imperial concubine survive such a scandal? Ai Ling kept the foreboding thought to herself. Chen 62
S I LV E R P H O E N I X
Yong’s face was a mask now, devoid of all emotion. He sat straight-backed against his chair, hands clutching each armrest so tightly his knuckles were pale. Ai Ling looked away, filled with sympathy for him, not knowing how to help.
Master Tan rose. “Please, I insist that you stay for the night.
We have plenty of room. Please eat. Don’t be modest.”
A young man of twenty years stepped into the main hall and greeted their host.
“Ah, Fei Ming. I was just going to visit you and the little one. This is my son,” Master Tan clapped the young man on the back. “And he just had one of his own. My first grandson.”
Ai Ling and Chen Yong both offered their congratulations.
“Chen Yong is the son of an old friend. And this is Ai Ling.”
Fei Ming made no reply. He avoided looking at either guest. Ai Ling’s scalp crawled. Was his the face she’d seen peering through the lattice panel earlier?
“Lan Hua will take you to your rooms when you’re ready.
We can talk again tomorrow morning, Chen Yong. I kept your father’s letters. They are yours if you like. I bid you good night.”
Master Tan and Fei Ming stepped out of the main hall.
Chen Yong was terse, withdrawn. Although Ai Ling had felt hungry earlier, she yearned for sleep now. The world seemed askew. She was grateful when Lan Hua led her to 63
Cindy Pon
her room. It was spacious, with a large bed hidden behind silk drapes. She was too tired to change. The servant girl helped her climb into bed. So kind, Ai Ling thought somewhere in the haze of her mind as she fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.
64
C H A P T E R S I X
Ai Ling woke on the hard ground. She looked around, bleary eyed, unable to sit up. Her wrists were bound together in front of her with rough rope. She wriggled her fingers, the rope chafing her skin; her hands responded to her will as if from a distance, both tingling and numb.
“You’re awake.”
She jerked her head toward the voice. Fei Ming towered over her.
“Why—”
But before she could continue, he yanked her to her feet.
She swayed, light-headed and nauseated. He held her with strong arms, and she leaned into him despite herself.
65
Cindy Pon
“You got something special in your tea. Lan Hua did what she was told.”
“Where are we?” Ai Ling asked. She tried to swallow, and her stomach heaved.
“Somewhere private.” Fei Ming’s reply was guttural.
It looked like an abandoned temple. A bright lantern cast a cone of light about them. The moon’s rays spilled through the paneless windows. The night was quiet.
“Enough talk. I’ve been hungering for a taste of you.”
She tried to scream, but her throat felt too constricted, her tongue too thick. Glowing green eyes stared back at her. Just like the lake. Ice-cold terror shuddered through her.
Fei Ming spun her around and shoved her down onto the dirt floor. He had unbound her hair, and it swept across her face. He grabbed a handful and pulled her head back.
“I want you to be awake for this,” he whispered in her
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