The Dragon and the Pearl

Chapter Twenty



Luoyang—AD 739

20 years earlier

After his third job, Feng invited Tao to join his gang. When Tao refused, Feng sent a gutter rat after him, someone larger, more experienced, but not as desperate to draw his next breath. The first rat, then the second, turned up dead and Feng stopped cluttering the alleys with his urchins.

Tao never joined any of the other street gangs. He didn’t want the shackles of such an association even for the protection it provided. He worked the dark corners and outskirts of the territories, carving out his own domain.

One night he found a grey man in a grey robe leaning in one of his corners.

‘Old man,’ he called out.

‘Young boy.’ The street lanterns revealed a twist of a smile on the old man’s face.

He took no offence even though he was no longer a boy. Pride could be deadly in these streets.

‘I am looking for the one they call Tao.’

‘That is me.’

The old man’s eyes gleamed with enjoyment. The oddness of it made Tao slip his knife into his hand while he hung back in the shadows.

‘Just Tao? Not Tao the Knife or Tao the Tiger?’

The grey man shook with laughter, utterly at ease in the back streets, which meant he was drunk or mad or dangerous.

‘Who are you?’ Tao demanded.

‘You had it right from the start. They call me “Lao Sou”.’ Old Man.

‘I have never heard of you.’

‘No one has.’

Tao stepped back and his gaze darted to the rooftops, to the far end of the alley. He saw nothing, heard nothing, but he knew the grey man was not here alone.

‘I have a job for you, Tao the Silent.’

‘Tonight?’

The Old Man chuckled. ‘No, no. Not until you’re ready. Put away your knife and walk with me.’



She knew the sound of water, even from a distance. The ebb and flow of it grew louder as they rode. They must be nearing the banks of the Jin. They veered into the thick of the forest, dismounting to continue on foot.

‘You’re not going to cover my eyes?’ she asked.

Zheng snorted. ‘An Ying is everywhere. We can disappear like the blowing wind.’

‘How poetic,’ she remarked blandly.

He shoved her forwards. The forest gave way to a stone path, encroached and overgrown with roots. The broken tiles led to a sudden part in the trees to reveal the face of a once-grand temple. The cracked paint lent it a hint of antiquity, a venerable sheen.

Zheng clamped a hand on to her shoulder. She shook him free and stepped forwards of her own volition, searching among the pillars and alcoves. There had been sliver of movement among the shadows, she was certain of it. Jun’s hand slipped to the knife in his belt.

‘You’ve never seen Lao Sou, have you?’ she asked.

‘Few have,’ Jun replied.

‘Yet you serve him above the people who cared for you.’

‘Don’t let her bewitch you, boy,’ Badger drawled from behind them.

She slid him a look over her shoulder and Badger flashed a crooked smile. An Ying was an odd collection of characters.

They stepped around the broken incense urn in the yard. A set of weathered steps led to the open doors. Zheng took hold of her again as they crossed the threshold. She peered through the dimly lit interior to the man seated where the altar once stood. The effect of it was akin to an emperor on his throne.

‘Fine work, young Jun,’ he said.

Li Tao had told her that Lao Sou preferred to wear drab clothing and disappear unnoticed in a crowd, but the man before her was dressed like a nobleman, his robe richly embroidered and of the finest silk. His face remained shadowed.

‘The notorious Ling Guifei honours us with her presence.’

‘Lao Sou,’ she greeted. ‘Your servant has his hand on me. I beseech you to have him remove it.’

‘Zheng, show respect for our guest.’

His hand tightened momentarily, anger vibrating through his fingertips. Then, without a word, he let her go. And just like that rank was established. She met Lao Sou’s gaze with a look that said, We are equals, you and I. Even though he held all the power.

He beckoned her with a wrinkled hand. ‘Come closer.’

She stepped on to the raised platform, noting how he was alone in the chamber. No, not alone. Once again, she caught a ripple of movement in the niche of the altar. Lao Sou didn’t want to appear as if he needed protection, but there was no way to tell how many guarded him.

‘Closer, closer. I am not the demon Li Tao described.’

He remained seated, his head tilted as if gauging each step. His eyes remained unfocused and blank. Blind. Li Tao had not told her that. How did a blind man command the respect of this horde of murderers and spies?

‘Li Tao never spoke of you as a demon.’

He raised a thick grey eyebrow. ‘No? What did he say?’

‘That you would come for him some day.’

He nodded, seemingly pleased, and a wave of powerlessness swept over her, weakening her resolve. It was as Li Tao had said. They were being manipulated, their fate not entirely their own.

‘Come closer, my lady.’

Lao Sou pushed off against the arms of the chair and stood, reaching out to her sightlessly. She found herself obliging him, taking his arm as if he was an old grandfather rather than the killer she knew he was.

‘My eyes are old and dim. I have never regretted it so much as now.’ He chuckled softly as he gestured toward the adjoining chamber. ‘I would have liked to look upon Ling Guifei’s renowned beauty.’

The old man led the way to a second chamber and they left Jun standing with Badger and Zheng in the centre of the room. The arm beneath hers was tough with wiry muscle and his step was agile and confident. He needed no assistance, she realised. Lao Sou was holding on to keep control of her.

A guard stood just inside the room. She saw no weapon, but she didn’t doubt that he was armed. He remained silent with the dark-eyed lethalness of a predator. This was what she had expected from the clan.

The chamber was furnished lavishly in contrast to the spare altar room. The Old Man seated her himself, pulling out a chair at the table for her before seating himself. She watched as he placed two cups before them, gauging the distance with his fingers before pouring wine from the jug.

‘Li Tao will not come for me,’ she began.

‘He will.’

‘He is not a sentimental man. If I were of any value, he would never have let me go.’

Her heart ached, yet she continued to torment it. Maybe if she heard the truth enough times from her own lips she would finally accept it. Li Tao knew what was important and he chose his battles carefully. They had said their farewells. She should consider it a blessing that he wasn’t the sort to rush in to save her. It would mean his death.

Lao Sou folded his hands before him. ‘What you mistake for coldness is single-mindedness. He cares for you more than you know. I’ve been paying close attention.’

‘With your spies?’

He reclined in his chair, more than pleased with himself.

As much as she wanted to see Li Tao again, she prayed the old man was mistaken. She was fighting for her life and the life of her child. Li Tao couldn’t also fall into this madman’s grasp. She needed to find a way to escape on her own.

‘I know Li Tao better than you,’ she challenged. ‘You never thought he would betray you for the August Emperor.’

Her remark seemed to wound him. He frowned, but then shrugged and took a sip of his wine. ‘Li Tao has marked you with our symbol. The dragon and the pearl.’

She touched a hand to her shoulder. The tattoo lay just beyond her reach. The memory of the needles made her skin tingle. She had never seen her design. She only knew it was a rough likeness of the symbol inked on to Li Tao’s body.

‘Do you know what the pearl represents?’ Lao Sou asked.

‘No.’

‘It’s a mystery. A powerful mystery. The dragon doesn’t know what it is, but he chases it anyway.’ He nodded with satisfaction. For a moment, it appeared as if his eyes actually focused on her. ‘That mark means he will come for you.’



Li Tao knew the moment his scouts reported that the wagons were returning. He took a horse out to intercept them and the look of defeat in his soldiers’ eyes told him what had happened. Auntie was speechless with grief. She tried to call out to him as he dug in his heels, riding hard in the direction they’d come from.

The horse’s stride pounded out a rhythm against the dirt road. In his head, Li Tao retraced his mistakes. The clan had remained dormant for so long. The armed escort was only a cautionary measure. He should have known his former master would strike now, when he was vulnerable. Part of him must have known. He had given Suyin the mark of the clan as a last defence. It was a promise written in blood and now he had to deliver.

The swordsman Wang had not returned with the others. He and the other elite guards had stayed to scour the area, but they would never find Suyin. The An Ying clan would move quickly. Their minions would scatter like ghosts in the daylight.

Li Tao returned alone to the location where Suyin had been taken. The assassins had left behind their marks on the trees. Their secret language. Lao Sou wanted to be discovered, but only by Li Tao. So he followed them.

Like a dog baring his throat to slaughter.

The music came through the forest, lilting notes that drifted into a song meant only for him. He recognised Suyin’s skilful touch on the strings. Li Tao dismounted and walked towards the sound. At last, Suyin had the grand gesture she’d asked for, except it wasn’t before the Emperor as she’d intended.

Your woman is still alive, his former master was saying. Come to me if you wish to see her again in this life.

His armies awaited his command at the front line, but instead he’d come here. This was the price he paid for letting Suyin inside. If he ignored the Old Man now, she would be the one to pay.

The music guided him to an abandoned temple. The columns were painted red, though the colour had faded and the woodwork had warped and cracked. Li Tao stood at the open doors, alone as he had been in the streets of Luoyang when Lao Sou had first come to him. He had always been able to empty his head in those dank alleys. He would block out the emptiness in his belly and the chill in his fingers, and simply survive. This moment was not so simple.

He stepped beyond the threshold into the darkened interior. The shelves and altars were empty of the customary statues and relics that adorned such temples. Instead of offerings of rice and tea, there was only dust. The air was clogged with it.

Li Tao found Suyin immediately. She sat at a low table, a focal point of sound and colour, wearing the same blue silk she’d worn when challenging him beside the gorge. He should have known then he’d fall to her. Her fingertips were poised over the qin. The song halted and she looked up at him, her eyes growing wide with surprise.

The Old Man sat beside her in the temple alcove. His men were stationed around the chamber as if he were holding court. These cold-hearted killers would cut out Li Tao’s heart on a single command from the Old Man, but they faded before him. There was only Suyin.

‘Are you hurt?’ he asked.

She shook her head. Her palms flattened over the strings, fingers splayed to still the last murmurs of sound. Her lips parted in shock.

‘I thought—’ She swallowed, fixing her gaze on to him and delving deep, deeper than he’d ever allowed anyone. ‘You’re here.’

She had doubted he would come. The pain of that doubt cut deep. He bled inside.

‘Of course,’ he said evenly.

‘You shouldn’t have come.’ She met his eyes with an odd, pleading look, trying to speak without words. He couldn’t understand.

‘Li Tao.’ The Old Man spoke his name like a grand proclamation. ‘It’s been fifteen long years.’

The attention of the entire chamber focused in on him as a single target at the centre. He sensed a mix of emotions: awe, anticipation and fear. So he still had a reputation.

One face among them was blatantly familiar. Jun. The one who had betrayed them. Li Tao marked him with a stare, but Jun refused to flinch.

Li Tao returned his attention to the old man at the front. ‘You have something that belongs to me.’

Lao Sou’s arm rested across the edge of the Suyin’s table. The placement of it was like the casual drape of a lion’s paw over its prey.

‘I told Ling Guifei you would come for her across the span of the earth. Tell me, is she beautiful?’

‘Yes, she is.’ The sight of her would always take his breath away.

Lao Sou turned to Suyin next. ‘Is he kneeling?’

She looked to him. ‘No,’ she replied softly.

‘No,’ Lao Sou echoed with a drip of venom.

The years had worn his old master to the bone. He seemed gaunt, grey, the lines in his face cut deeper. Apparently Lao Sou was blind now as well, but still far from harmless.

‘When I found you, you were a stray wandering the gutters.’ Only the flex of the Old Man’s fingers against the corner of the table hinted at his anger. ‘I gave you an assignment and you failed.’

‘I made a choice.’

‘You have no choice!’

Lao Sou’s voice thundered through the chamber. Suyin jumped at his sudden outburst and the entire assembly hushed.

It was true that Li Tao had been nothing when he was taken from the streets. Lao Sou had trained him patiently. Some would say, as a father might a son. Then his master had sent him to the imperial army to die without a qualm.

‘What do you wish of me now?’ Li Tao asked calmly.

Lao Sou shook his head. ‘Still insolent.’

‘I am at your mercy.’

The Old Man snorted. He wanted something more. After fifteen years of waiting, he wasn’t getting the confrontation he so eagerly wanted.

‘Where are your armies?’ Lao Sou asked.

‘By the river.’

‘What will your soldiers do if you’re not there to lead them?’

‘March on their own. An army can’t live or die by its one general.’

Lao Sou shook with anger. ‘Look at you. Bringing war upon this empire like you’re the August Emperor.’

If this was revenge, it was a twisted beyond recognition. Suyin’s hands were locked fearfully in front of her. Li Tao wanted this finished for her sake.

‘What do you want, Old Man?’ he demanded. ‘An apology on my knees?’

‘Emperor Shen and Gao’s armies gather on the other bank. You have a chance to redeem your past failure.’

‘By taking the life of another Emperor?’

‘No, boy. You have been agonising for months over this problem and the solution is in front of you. Kill Gao Shiming.’

At that, the Old Man’s hand shot out, quick as a cobra. Li Tao ducked aside as the dark blade embedded itself with a thud into a wooden pillar behind him.

Suyin sprang to her feet, but the guards restrained her. Li Tao dug his nails into his palm to keep from rushing forwards.

Lao Sou stood triumphantly. ‘There. I will even give you the knife.’

‘Is that is all you want?’ he demanded.

The Old Man snorted. ‘When I hear of your success, I will release her. And you will fulfil your duty this time.’

And that was all this was: duty. One death to make up for the one he’d failed to deliver years ago.

If murdering Gao would resolve his problems, Li Tao would have done it long ago. But Gao’s death would only urge the forces behind him to rise up. The old warlord’s army would be left in disarray—a serpent coiling and writhing without a head. It went against everything Li Tao had fought to maintain: balance, order, stability. Lao Sou was bleeding him of every last bit of will. The Old Man wanted it all back—everything he’d built in the last fifteen years.

Li Tao met Suyin’s eyes. He wished he had held her longer the last time they were together. He wished that he had given her everything she’d ever asked for.

‘It’s good to see you.’ He tried to put the world into his farewell, but he’d never had any talent with words. They fell heavy into the silence.

Suyin started to respond, but the guards took her away. She disappeared through the heavy curtain at the side of the room. Her cries became muted.

Li Tao ground his teeth together. He dragged one breath into his lungs, and then another. He couldn’t go to her. He needed to focus. Lao Sou wouldn’t harm her if he did what he was told. That was the entire purpose of this game. Control.

The only way he could guarantee Suyin’s safety was to kill Gao. The elder warlord already planned to meet with him. Even with the guards surrounding Gao, he could do it. A single man with a blade.

The coldness seeped into his skin as he accepted the inevitable. This is what he had been trained to do. His body remembered.

This was the last he’d ever see of Suyin. She had been frightened and he could do nothing but watch as she was dragged away. There was at least one small comfort his last act would earn him: Gao would no longer threaten Suyin.

Li Tao faced his former master. ‘If you hurt her—’

Lao Sou dismissed him with a snort. ‘Go. And don’t disappoint me again, Tao.’



Suyin swiveled against the henchmen who held her. Tears stung at the corners of her eyes and her knees threatened to collapse.

Li Tao had come for her. She could hardly believe it. He had always insisted on discipline and control. Even when they argued. He fought for it when they made love. Seeing him had filled her with hope, but all hope fell away when she saw the look in his eyes. They were flat and devoid of light. Dead.

The Old Man would now destroy him for this one weakness, the weakness she’d caused. He was still so close. She could sense him. If she called out to him, Li Tao would come rushing back to her and the assassins would put a knife in his heart. So she bit her tongue and remained quiet.

She needed so desperately to tell him about the child growing inside her. She was certain she was pregnant now. The soreness in her breasts and the constant exhaustion were accompanied by waves of sickness from the moment she awoke to late each afternoon. For days, she had fought to hide these signs. They would only give the Old Man more to hold over Li Tao.

The hands clamped around her relaxed as Lao Sou appeared through the curtain.

‘He is gone.’ He bristled as he strode into the antechamber. He nearly knocked over the chair before righting it and swatted away the attendant who tried to help him.

‘Leave me,’ he growled

His attendant slipped outside the door and Lao Sou dropped on to the chair. He made a noise in his throat—a half-grunt, half-snort like a little boy trying to get attention.

Men of power had few ears to spill their troubles to. This was something she understood as a courtesan, but she was in no mood to indulge him. He had sent Li Tao to die out of spite.

She remained standing with her back to the corner and her hands balled tight. The pain of having Li Tao close enough to touch only to lose him again cut deep.

‘Do you even have a name?’ she asked petulantly. ‘You certainly were not always an old man.’

‘I hardly remember it.’

‘Quite sad.’

He twisted in his seat to face her. ‘An Ying has controlled the fate of emperors and generals. This empire has risen in its wake.’

‘A lofty description for a den of thieves and murderers.’

‘Thieves? Murderers?’ He stood, shaking with anger. His sightless eyes searched the corner for her.

Li Tao spoke of the clan as a mysterious force with fingers winding into all corners of the empire. For all she knew, these were only myths to frighten people.

‘Assassins hiding in the dark,’ she accused.

‘You know nothing about An Ying.’

‘I know you sent Li Tao off to die for your petty revenge.’

Using the furniture as a guide, he attempted to advance on her. The effect was almost pitiable. She was tired of men of power controlling her fate. She had already lived a lifetime of conspiracy.

‘If Tao had simply done what he was told years ago…’ he ranted.

‘What was the price for the August Emperor’s head?’

‘No price. I called the order on that bastard.’

‘Emperor Li Ming was a good man.’ Even after his death, she felt the need to defend her protector. Especially against this goat.

‘Warmonger with the head of a baboon!’ Lao Sou slapped his palm against the table. ‘He would have brought the empire into one battle after another until it fell into ruin. If he had fallen at Shibao, Emperor Shen would have taken the throne fifteen years earlier.’

She realised then that Lao Sou had once operated in the inner court. Perhaps before the reign of the August Emperor. He could be a minister or a general. It was the only way a secret clan could gain such influence.

Boldly, she took a step closer, loud enough that he knew exactly where she stood. She wasn’t afraid. She was tired of being careful.

‘Li Tao described you as a cold, calculating mastermind. I see a bitter old man, buckling under the weight of time. You’re angry because Li Tao wouldn’t grovel before you after all these years. Even if he did, you wouldn’t have the satisfaction of seeing it.’

The room fell silent. Lao Sou stopped with a huff of breath. He pointed a wrinkled finger at her accusingly. ‘I was always told that Ling Guifei was charming and sweet-tempered.’

‘Whoever told you that?’

‘Plant more flowers than thorns, they say.’

‘Why should I be flowers and perfume when you deal in knives and poison?’ she demanded.

He grunted and struck his hand against the table top. Then, to her surprise, he chuckled. He turned and found his seat, sitting back with his hands propped upon his knees. It seemed their altercation had drained the bile out of him.

‘She-demon,’ he remarked with an inexplicable amount of glee. ‘No wonder Li Tao is so smitten with you.’