They talked—haltingly—about his family, most especially his uncle who was a eunuch in the Forbidden City. She grilled him about what his uncle did every day and night. Everything she might learn about life in the Forbidden City.
It was her way of trying to learn more about her future. And though he cherished every moment they spent together, this was especially depressing. By the time she yawned for the seventh time, he knew the evening must end.
He switched back to his native Mandarin as he stood up. “I must get up early tomorrow to help Wan Fu.”
“Who is that?”
“The man who was startled by a fox at your ancestral tomb.”
She straightened, adjusting her hair and her clothing as she moved. Though she had been well covered during his language lesson, she still set everything back in place. “But why do you have to help him?”
“Because he is my family now. I have promised.” And because it made him feel good to do something other than hunch over scrolls all day.
“Your kindness family?” There was laughter in her tone. “I thought you made that up.”
He shrugged. “I did. But I am still beholden to them.”
“But you made it up!”
“And I am happiest when I am doing something good for someone else.” Did she not understand? “I’m not taking the imperial exam just to get a good salary. I mean to use my power to help the people Peking has forgotten.”
She frowned. “The emperor provides for all.”
“Some more than others,” he countered. “The viceroys are corrupt. The aid from the emperor does not always reach the people meant to have it.”
She nodded, her expression grave. “My father says much the same thing.”
“We are alike in that.”
“Yes,” she said softly. “You are. And now I see that you will pass the exam. I see that you have a determination larger than saving your own family.” She took his hand and squeezed it. “You will make a great magistrate or viceroy or whatever appointment you receive.”
“I shall be happy to pass the exam first,” he said.
And so, walking hand in hand, they moved slowly to the garden wall. She switched them back to Manchu as they moved, speaking in whispers that he could only partially understand.
They hesitated at the wall. He wanted to kiss her. He burned with the need, but he knew if he did, she would end up in his bed. He would not be able to let her go. And so he helped her stand on the stone he had placed there, then boosted her up.
She scrambled up easily, pausing at the top to look back at him. How she glowed in moonlight. He could readily believe her a spirit. But he knew she was flesh and blood. He had touched her, he had loved her, and now he was seeing her safely home.
“Good night,” she said in Manchu. He answered in the same way before he watched her drop down to her garden.
Then he heard her gasp.
Zhi Hao had been about to head to his bed, but he froze at the sound. He was already preparing to leap onto the wall when he heard her speak.
“Baba.”Father.
Then he heard the slap.
Chapter Seventeen
Ling Xin hadnever known such happiness could exist. Not only from the sexual experiences, but simply being with him. They’d laughed this evening a great deal more than she’d ever done with anyone else.
That was the reason she’d been careless when she’d left him. She hadn’t bothered to be quiet. They’d been enjoying each other so much these last few nights, with no one the wiser. Except her father was known to pace at night sometimes. And he sometimes prowled the back garden.
He heard her drop down from the wall. He was barely five feet from where she landed. And then she saw him stare at her, his eyes darting between her and the wall beyond. His conclusion was clear.
She had time to say his name and then he struck—a hard backhand to her face, and her whole body thudded against the wall. Fear coursed through her. But before she could do more than straighten from the wall, she heard another body drop quickly between her and her father.