The brush misses.
A cold hand clamps my wrist.
"Stand," he says.
I freeze.
"Why speak of Lingnan weave?" Zhao Kang asks.
His eyes are like knives.
"I heard it in a ledger," I say.
Short.
He studies my palm.
Ink dark under skin.
"What ledgers?" he presses.
"Minor Archive copies," I answer.
Flat.
He laughs once.
"A maid who reads ledgers. Useful."
"Useful," I repeat.
He waves a hand.
"Come into the side room."
They push me through a curtain.
A low table waits. A tray of wine.
He sits, ring flashing.
"Speak," he orders.
Calm.
"I know trade patterns," I say.
Three words.
"Proof," he says.
I slide a folded note from my robe.
"An old tariff line. Lingnan double-thread. See?"
He unfolds it.
Fingers like scales.
"A token," he says. "Cheap coin."
"It proves I handle copies," I say.
He sips wine.
"Knowledge is currency."
"Then trade," I say.
He leans back.
"What do you want, maid?"
"Access to old customs records," I say. "For copying."
Direct.
He snorts.
"Bold request."
"Permission gives you control," I say.
Short.
"Bribe?" he asks.
"No," I answer.
He studies me and decides like a merchant.
"A small purse of silver. And watchfulness. You stay near the Revenues hall for a week."
"I accept," I say, voice even.
He tosses the purse.
Silver clinks.
My fingers close.
"You owe me," he says. "Know your place."
"I do," I reply.
He watches me go.
"Keep her close," he tells a eunuch.
"Yes, Prince," the eunuch bows.
I walk back through the hall.
Men glance.
A clerk sneers.
"Did you sell your back?" Xiao Mei hisses when I return.
"I sold a favor," I say. "Not my spine."
She sniffs.
"He gave silver."
"Small," I admit. "Useful."
"Useful?" she repeats.
"Useful," I say.
We fold the silver into a coin pouch.
We slit a seam in my robe and hide the purse there.
"Be careful," Xiao Mei orders. "He watches like a hawk."
"Then we will be hawk and hawk," I say.
Short.
That night the corridor smells of oil and stew.
A high maid stops me outside my door.
"Li Mingyue," she says, voice silk.
"Yes?" I answer.
"The Consort sends word," she purrs. "She invites you to the Full Moon Banquet tomorrow. Dress well."
My breath clips.
"Why?" I ask, too sharp.
"A mark of favor," the maid says, smile tight. "Consort Li requests your presence."
"Thank the Consort," I say, head bowing small.
The maid's smile thins.
"Dress appropriately," she says. "Do not disappoint."
She glides away like a shadow.
Xiao Mei presses a cloth to her mouth.
"What did she say?"
"Banquet," I say.
One word.
"Consort Li?" she spits. "A trap."
"Maybe," I say.
Short.
"Then refuse," she snaps.
"Refuse?" I echo.
"Refuse and hide," she urges. "We move the family tonight."
"Move them first," I answer. "Then refuse."
"Who will move them?" she asks.
"Li Heng promised," I say. "Two weeks. He can move them tonight if we pay extra."
"Pay with what?" she demands.
"Silver," I say. "The purse Zhao Kang gave—the rest I have."
Honest.
She studies me like a blade measuring wood.
"You will risk the Consort?"
"I will risk a banquet," I reply, cold and small.
"Fine," she mutters. "But you go with a plan."
"Plan," I confirm.
We set the plan like a merchant sets a route.
At dusk I dress in borrowed silk.
The robe pinches. The hem drags dust.
Xiao Mei pins my hair fast.
Her hands shake.
"Remember the seam," I tell her. "The copy goes in the tube. The coin in the lining."
"Do you trust him?" she asks, voice raw.
"I trust a price," I answer.
Short.
We step into the courtyard.
Lantern light makes men into half-sentences.
The Consort's pavilion puffs like a closed mouth.
Eunuchs stand like stakes.
We cross the yard.
Guards glance at my robe.
A guard snorts and lets us pass.
Inside, the banquet table spreads like a river.
Dishes steam and clink.
Consort Li sits in a nest of cushions.
Her fan flicks like a blade.
"Come," she calls.
Voice soft.
We bow.
Men cough.
A prince trades a smile with a eunuch.
"Li Mingyue," Consort Li says, "you restored the Emperor's verse. That art is rare."
"Penitence," I say, low.
"Call it talent," she answers.
"Then show us another piece," a concubine taunts. "Prove it was not a fluke."
"Show," the Consort says. "The Prince wishes to see craft."
Zhao Kang watches, fingers steepled.
He tilts his head.
"Yes?" he asks, like a buyer.
I accept the brush they hand me.
The bristles bite my skin.
"Paint," Consort Li orders. "Make it worthy."
I bend.
The scroll spreads.
My wrist remembers slow rhythm.
My hand moves with the steadiness of trade.
"Focus," Xiao Mei whispers.
I sketch a line.
The ink drinks and holds.
The room quiets like a net.
"When did you learn this?" a woman sneers.
"Practice," I say.
Short.
Zhao Kang leans.
His jaw tightens.
He studies the stroke.
"This is not common," he says, low. "The hand knows more."
"She copies ledgers," Consort Li says. "Ledgers teach many things."
"Who taught you?" Zhao Kang asks me directly.
"Many hands," I say.
He smiles thin.
"You owe debts then."
"Debts," I echo.
"Repay them," he says. "With loyalty."
I smile small and cold.
"Loyalty costs more than coin."
He nods like a man counting goods.
The banquet resumes.
Wine flows thin and bright.
A maid slides a dish near us.
Her eyes flick to the doorway.
A shadow moves outside.
"Who was that?" Xiao Mei whispers.
"No one," I say.
Short.
A eunuch bends to Consort Li and murmurs.
The Consort's eyes sharpen and she lifts her fan.
"Interesting," she says, voice like cool glass. "We will have entertainment tonight and a small game of talent."
"A game?" someone asks.
"A demonstration," she corrects. "To amuse our guest."
Zhao Kang smiles.
"Yes. A demonstration."
My hands tighten on the brush.
My pulse clicks.
"Play," Consort Li says.
Her smile is a trap closing.
Later, after dishes and wine, they demand more.
The Prince wants finer strokes.
The concubines jostle for applause.
I perform until my wrist burns.
Ink smears like small wounds.
"Enough," Consort Li says at last, voice soft as a knife.
She flicks her fan and stands.
"Li Mingyue," she says, "tomorrow the Full Moon Banquet. Wear the lotus robe."
A hiss moves across the cushions.
"Lotus robe?" Xiao Mei mutters. "Expensive."
"A sign of favor," Consort Li says. "You will stand in the pavilion and entertain the merchant's delegation."
My stomach tightens like a drawn string.
"Entertain?" I repeat.
"Visit us," Zhao Kang suggests with a tilt. "Bring the ledger copies you handle. We will see how far your knowledge runs."
"Bring the ledger?" someone whispers.
"Yes," Consort Li replies. "Let the Prince inspect."
Xiao Mei's fingers braid in my sleeve like roots.
"Don't go alone," she whispers. "Promise."
"Alone," I echo. "I go alone."
"A trap," she hisses. "Do not be seen as a threat."
"I will be a tool," I say.
Three words.
"A tool?" she repeats, voice thin.
"A tool until we can cut our knot," I say.
Consort Li's smile widens.
"Good," she says. "The Full Moon will be most... illuminating."
She clicks her fan shut.
The sound is small and final.
Zhao Kang bows, and his eyes find mine with a slow hunger.
He murmurs, "Bring your copyist's truth."
I bow so low my forehead brushes the mat.
"Yes," I say, voice small but clear.
Outside, the garden hums with guards and lanterns.
Xiao Mei presses a palm to her mouth and pulls me close.
"If this is a trap," she whispers, "we run."
"We run after the signal," I say.
"Signal?" she asks.
"The coin under the seam," I answer. "Li Heng moves at moonrise."
She nods and bites her lip.
Consort Li watches from her cushions, fan folded like a closed hand.
"Sleep," she calls softly. "Tomorrow will be a night to remember."
Her last words hang like a net.
I step out into the cool air and count breaths.
One.
Two.
Three.
In my pocket the silver purse feels small and real.
The palace sleeps like a beast with one eye open.
Tomorrow I will wear borrowed silk, carry copied ledgers, stand under a moon that shows no mercy.
I slip to the archive before dawn.
"Gao," I whisper.
He looks up, slow.
"You moved the charts?" I ask.
"Some," he says. "Enough."
He spreads a brittle folio.
"Hide the copy," I say. "In the tube."
He nods.
"East bench guard will doze."
"Wake him at two," I order. "Coin bell."
"A bell?" Gao repeats.
"Make noise. Li Heng will move at moonrise. He needs cover."
Gao slides a scrap across.
"Names in code," he says. "Keep it close."
I fold the scrap into my sleeve.
"How many?" Xiao Mei asks, slipping in.
"Three," I answer. "First group."
"Can we stop it?" she asks.
"Maybe," I say.
Short.
"Maybe?" she repeats.
"Two weeks buys time," I tell her.
She breathes out and nods.
"Li Heng moves tonight," she says. "He needs coin."
"Give him coin," I say.
Short.
"We'll plant a fan at the east stall," she adds. "Guards check market. He moves."
"Simple," I agree.
Gao warns, "Paper cuts deeper than knives."
"I know," I reply.
We slide the copy into the tube and seal it with oilcloth.
"Promise me you won't plead," Xiao Mei begs.
"I won't," I say.
"Then bargain," she snaps.
"With hunger," I answer.
A low bell rings.
"Go," Gao whispers.
At the west gate Li Heng waits, limp leg planted.
"Two weeks?" he asks.
"Tonight. Extra coin. Quiet move," I tell him.
He nods.
"Moonrise."
"Bring a note when they're gone," I say.
"If not—" he says, menace thin.
"If not, we burn his ledger," I say.
He laughs and pockets the purse.
"Be clever tonight," he warns. "Talk numbers. Let them want you."
"I will," I promise.
I walk back to the pavilion with the copy warm under my robe.
Moon light stitches the roofs.
The night tastes like metal.
A trap is set.
We sharpen answers, hide copies, breathe low.
The Consort invites you to the Full Moon Banquet tomorrow.
Dress appropriately.