Chapter 15

 

Shanghai had its own peculiar shape and scent, and though Zhi-Gang curled his lip at the smell, it wasn't the yellow mud that turned his stomach; it was Madame Ting's Garden of Perfumed Flowers. That and the way Halfy fondled every girl in the place.

Apparently, Halfy now ran the whorehouse, after the mysterious disappearance of Madame Ting. He was therefore the best source of information on the girls who might or might not have been brought here ten years ago. Unfortunately, Zhi-Gang didn't think he could talk with the man much longer without killing him. Yet he couldn't very well pass the task on to Anna, and Jing-Li was back in Jiangsu.

Which meant he had to sit in a tiny back room with this bastard he'd almost killed, smelling the man's sour sweat as it mixed with the nauseating scents of old tobacco, opium, and sex. Anna was with a few of the "flowers," to clean up and get a fresh set of clothes. He worried that she wouldn't be safe, that she would run, that if he left her alone for five minutes, he would never see her again.

But the fear was illogical. Over the last few days, her desire for revenge against her adopted father had taken on a life of its own. It was all she talked about now, in whispers in their bed, in veiled comments about a horse named Betrayer, even in idle doodles she made with a stick in the dirt. She seemed to believe that once Samuel was dead, her life would suddenly return to a sweet perfection where all was rainbows and flowers.

But that wouldn't happen. She must know. Even if she really were that naive, he had pointed out the truth often enough. No death—even a righteous one—could restore innocence. But the moment he tried to suggest such a thing, she began spinning a tale of what would happen when she arrived in England. Of the parties her family would throw on her behalf, the gifts she would receive, even the suitors that would vie for her hand.

The stories always set his teeth on edge, but he had allowed her to pretend. Better she let her mind remain in a fictional life in England than the ugly reality of what they planned for her adopted father. And so they had continued into Shanghai, and now here they were at Halfy's brothel. Zhi-Gang sat in the tiny back office listening to the half-white bastard brag about his privileges with the girls while chewing greasy dumplings with an open mouth.

"Did you run this place ten years ago?" Zhi-Gang asked, trying to bring Halfy back to the discussion at hand.

"I been here since I was born," he said as the door opened and a young girl of about sixteen years brought in a tea tray filled with teacups and a bottle of American whiskey. "Samuel thought I had potential and trained me. Now I'm what he calls his right-hand man."

A lie if there ever was one, but Zhi-Gang liked it when idiots bragged. They always let something key slip. "What about the new girls? Do they come directly to you?"

"Yeah." The man grinned. He watched as the girl set out the cups and poured the whiskey. Her hands were steady, her expression blank. For a moment, Zhi-Gang wondered if there were a real person inside or not, then Halfy abruptly demonstrated there was: Just as she turned to leave, he snatched her around the waist and pulled her back, hauling her onto his lap. She squeaked in alarm and tried to struggle, but he cuffed her on the head and she abruptly quieted. He hadn't even hit her hard, but she settled immediately, her eyes going eerily blank. Even her half-shed, shimmering tears seemed to dry up.

"What are you doing?" Zhi-Gang growled. "I can't drink with a woman sitting there."

"Aw, she won't say nothing. See, that's what I been telling you. I help in training all the girls. Have since I started outweighing them."

Zhi-Gang winced. "I'm interested in learning about a particular girl," he began, but Halfy wasn't paying attention.

"They're all the same. Just cunts needing to be opened up." So saying, he hauled the girl's legs apart.

"You'll rip the dress," she murmured—a small protest from a beaten woman.

"We got lots of dresses," Halfy returned, but he jostled her enough to tug her skirt up all the way, exposing a shaved and rouged bottom.

"I don't need to see—"

"They do whatever I say after they're trained. And if they don't, we got beds with chains. Opium to make 'em agreeable, and lots of customers who want to help with the initiation." Then he visibly preened. "But I get to use 'em early. It's part of the training. Gotta get used to a white man's cock. They're bigger, you know." He grinned and shoved a thick finger inside the girl. "They usually scream with me."

Zhi-Gang showed more reaction than the girl. She simply stared at the far wall, her body completely still as Halfy spread her legs even wider. Acid churned in Zhi-Gang's gut. Even knowing that Halfy was too young to have initiated his sister, he couldn't stop imagining it. In his mind's eye, Halfy became the bastard who had touched his sister, who had raped dozens of young and very frightened girls, who continued to abuse them every chance he got. The need to end the persecution burned through his body making his hands clench.

"Stop it," Zhi-Gang growled. "I don't enjoy watching." And when Halfy ignored him, he abruptly leaned forward and hauled on the man's arm. "You are disgusting," he spat.

"You'd rather enjoy her yourself? She's available. I'll even discount her for you."

Zhi-Gang didn't bother commenting. He hauled the girl to her feet and tugged down her skirt. The girl's eyes fastened on him. Her expression was still blank, but there was an edge of surprise in her eyes.

"Go find Anna," he snapped. "The white woman I came here with. Tell her where you were born."

The girl just stared at him, uncomprehending. Zhi-Gang had to physically turn her around and shove her out. Then, slamming the flimsy wood door, he spun back to Halfy. "How will you contact this Samuel?" he demanded. "When can I meet him?"

Halfy shrugged. "He's a regular here. He'll hear that I'm back and come to see me. Probably tomorrow night."

"Really?" Zhi-Gang drawled. "You don't send a message? He just appears at your door?"

"Yes." His eyes got a nasty gleam. "I initiated Anna, too," he said, obviously relishing the memory. "She was smaller then—young and tight. I was young, too, but still big enough to make her scream. A lot."

Then Halfy leaned forward and grabbed the teacup filled with whiskey, throwing his head back as he drank. It was the last thing he did. Zhi-Gang slammed his knife straight into Halfy's heart.

Five minutes later, Anna burst through the door. Zhi-Gang was leafing through what passed for the house's accounts, looking for a mention of his sister. Mrs. Ting had been quite meticulous, and he found a wealth of information on the running of a brothel. It was only when Halfy took over that things had become sloppy.

Zhi-Gang was on his feet, knives at the ready before Anna was more than halfway through the door. She abruptly stopped, her eyes flickering over Halfy's corpse. "I can't leave you alone for five minutes, can I?"

He shrugged. "I couldn't stand the pig anymore." He glanced down. "I'll clean up later—though another towel would be useful." He'd already found a grease-stained rag and a bucket. Between the two, he'd handled most of the blood.

Anna made a sound of disgust, then stepped back outside. She returned a moment later with many thick towels and two thick-armed waiters. "You know what to do?" she asked the men. They nodded, though they stood frozen to the spot, their minds obviously churning.

Zhi-Gang looked up from the accounts. "Spread the word: I'm in charge now." Then he flicked his gaze to Halfy. "Do your duty, and you will be amply rewarded."

As he'd guessed, they were merely wondering how Halfy's death affected their jobs. With the promise of continued employment, they leaped to it. Halfy was removed in record time.

"And tell the girls that we're closed today," Zhi-Gang called before they left. "For everyone except special customers."

They grunted in acknowledgment and were gone, hauling the body between them.

Anna watched the waiters leave, her expression unreadable. Then she nodded as if satisfied. "They've done this before. They didn't even spill any blood."

Zhi-Gang exhaled, the tight band around his chest releasing with her casual disinterest. "Shanghai brothels are the best and worst in all of China." He looked at her face. "Now, you don't mind that I killed—"

"I thank you for it." She caught his gaze. "You cannot know how he has tortured these women."

But he did know. He saw it in his nightmares. He sighed and admitted, "It could make things more complicated."

"I don't think so. Who's the 'special customer' you're waiting for? Samuel?"

He nodded, but his attention was suddenly riveted on something else: his sister's name, written in neat calligraphy, and the date she'd arrived here. Other notations followed, each like an ice pick to his heart. Names with dollar amounts. No less than seventeen men had apparently bought his sister's "virginity." And then came a final notation, years later, with an exorbitant number beside it.

"What does this mean?" he asked no one in particular. "What does it mean?"

Anna peered over his shoulder. When he gave her more room, she ran her finger like water down the page. It flowed over the men's names, the money exchanges, ending on the last dollar amount and two more words.

"Little Pearl," she read aloud. Then she lifted her gaze to him. "I think she was sold to Little Pearl."

His mind reeled with fury even as his heartbeat accelerated. After all this time, he finally had proof that his sister was close. That her time of horror might nearly be done. "Who is this Little Pearl?"

Anna straightened. "That's what I came to tell you. I've been talking to the girls here. They say there's a teacher, a woman named Little Pearl who instructs whores in expensive techniques. If anyone would know where your sister is, she would."

He pushed to his feet. "Then we must find Little Pearl."

"And after we find her, are you going to kill her, too?"

"Very likely," he growled. The madames were often worse than Halfy, allowing—even promoting—the most vicious and depraved acts.

She sighed. "Then let's wait until the boys get back from dumping Halfy. They can come with us as drivers. I'm too tired to carry a dead body through Shanghai."

* * *

Little Pearl lived in Chinese Shanghai at a Tigress temple, whatever that was. Anna didn't really care, except that she was a white woman who wasn't supposed to leave the foreign territories. But Zhi-Gang wouldn't leave her in the brothel, and so they used the brothel's carriage. With the right bribes, no soldier would look inside the dark, closed interior, so she ought to be safe. But just in case, Zhi-Gang joined her inside after giving a great many coins to the driver.

"It will take at least a half hour," he said as he settled beside her.

She nodded, then gasped as the vehicle lurched into motion. He looked at her in surprise.

"You've never been in a closed carriage before?"

"Only a couple of times. With Samuel, a long, long time ago." She shrugged. "The missions all had open carts."

Zhi-Gang nodded. "The missions didn't need to transport screaming girls or bags of opium."

True enough. Anna relaxed back against the overstuffed squabs only to feel her belly tense again. She wasn't sure why she was so nervous. It was still daylight. The afternoon sun poured in through the lacy curtains. She could see outside if she wanted; the interior was warmer than the cutting wind outside, and Zhi-Gang was here beside her.

She turned to him, seeing him fidget with his knives, shifting them back and forth between his hands. He replaced a blade in its holster only to abruptly whip it out again. She narrowed her eyes. The anxiety she felt wasn't hers. It came from him.

"Trying to work up your nerve to kill me?" she asked. She'd meant the question as a light tease, but a part of her still worried. He was, after all, still the Enforcer. He had once calmly said that he intended to kill her as soon as it was convenient.

"What?" He jumped slightly, then abruptly slammed his blades away. "No! No. I'm just thinking about..." His voice trailed off, but she had no problem guessing the direction of his thoughts.

"About your sister?"

He nodded, his expression dark.

She hesitated a moment, then decided to make him face the truth. "You know that she is likely dead, don't you? Or untraceable. That last notation was a long time ago." The words were cruel, but it would be better if he were prepared for the worst. "We were lucky to learn this much."

He nodded. He knew. He'd always known, she realized, and yet something drove him to find this girl. Perhaps it was just their family bond—a brother searching for a betrayed sister—but she sensed there was something else behind his actions. Something more personal to Zhi-Gang himself.

"Did you care deeply for her? Were you two very close when she was taken away?"

He shrugged, shaking his head. "I was a year older. I found her irritating in the way of all little girls." He sighed and pulled out a blade again. "She cried a lot because of her feet..They were bound and hurt her badly." His gaze lifted off his knife to stare at the darkened wall opposite. "She used to run so fast—faster than me, I think. Or at least that's what my brothers used to say. That even little Xiao-Mei was faster than I was."

"But not on bound feet."

He sighed. "No. Not on bound feet."

"Then, what happened?" She wanted to keep him talking. She sensed that this was a rare moment for him: a time when he was vulnerable enough to share some of the darkness that ate his soul. She had to learn now, before they saw this Little Pearl, or he would tuck it away again.

"My parents sold her. The slaver showed up in the middle of the night. They dickered over her price and then sold her. She was more valuable because of her feet, you know. Customers like tiny feet, but only the wealthy aristocrats bind their girls."

"So your family were aristocrats, if poor ones. You needed the money for food?"

He shook his head, his voice growing darker and thicker. "She was hiding under the table. My brothers were asleep, but I heard the slaver come. I crept to our bedroom door and saw her watching from the upper hallway."

"She watched her parents sell her?" Anna shuddered.

"She screamed. She kicked. She did everything she could to run, but she was just a little girl with bound feet."

Anna sighed. She could feel the darkness coiling inside Zhi-Gang, knew here was the source of his anger. "You became the Enforcer to stop this from happening—to stop the trade in girls and opium? That's a good ending, you know. You may have lost a sister, but there are many girls who will live long and happy lives because of you."

He rounded on her, and the blade of his knife flashed. He wasn't even holding it, but she saw it in her mind and recoiled. He gripped her shoulders—not painfully, but with all the ancient hurt in his heart.

"Yes!" he snapped. "I became Enforcer because of her. But not how you think."

"Then tell me," she shot back. "Tell what makes you kill anyone who trafficks in girls or opium."

He pushed away from her, his motion shoving her back into the cushions as he turned away. "I became the Enforcer because I am good at killing. Because my first lover was addicted to opium, and I killed her supplier. That had nothing to do with my sister."

She said nothing, knowing he would continue in his own time, in his own way. But he said nothing, and in the end she leaned forward, stroking her arm across his back. "You cannot think I would revile you for whatever happened, Zhi-Gang. Whatever it is, I have done worse. I am worse."

He shook his head. "You took the only life you had available to you. I cannot damn you for being tricked by this Samuel, for doing his business when you had little choice between that or starvation."

She gasped. She had not told him all of that. She had not talked about the temptations Samuel had offered or the threats he used. It was only after years of thought that she'd realized he had likely engineered the theft that expelled her from the mission. He had created the situation that left her destitute but for his beneficence.

She pressed a grateful kiss into Zhi-Gang's strong shoulder. "So you can forgive me?" she whispered, her heart filled with awe. "What is so awful that you cannot forgive yourself?"

He shuddered. It was a violent motion, but she held on nonetheless. She would not let go of this man now. "Tell me," she pressed.

"It was my idea!" he bellowed. Then he rounded on her, his entire body clenched with fury. He unleashed it not at her, but at himself, beating his fists down upon his legs as he spoke. "I had a friend. His sisters had been sold, too. Suddenly, his two annoying sisters were gone and he had food and a bright green plot of land to till."

She nodded. "It was the way of things in Jiangsu until you stopped it. Just a few days ago, you ended that."

He shook his head. "Too late. Too late. Xiao-Mei was crying. She wanted to see what I was reading. She wanted to play with her doll but couldn't walk easily to it. She was always there, always wanting. And we barely had enough to feed ourselves. There was no way we could afford the kind of tutor I wanted." He lifted his head, and she saw tears wet his cheeks.

"You weren't in Peking then, were you?" she asked.

He shook his head. "We were in Huai'an, but Father knew I was smart. He said with the right schooling I could take the examination. I could become powerful. I could advise the Emperor and be everything he himself wanted to be but was too stupid to achieve."

"Your father sold your sister. Not you."

Zhi-Gang growled, the sound like a pestle grinding ice shards. "It was my idea! She was crying—again. I don't even remember why, but I told her to shut up. That if she didn't be quiet we'd sell her like my friend's sisters. I started talking about the new life we'd have from all the money we'd get. I didn't know my father was listening. I never thought he'd actually do it."

"You were a child. You didn't understand what you were saying."

His eyes burned fever-bright, his gaze cutting. "Didn't you hear me? I was smart! I knew exactly how it could be done; I just didn't think they would." Tears shimmered in his eyes. "I tried to help her that night. I ran to her, but was thrown aside. He was too big. There was nothing I could do to stop it. And then she was gone. We sold her and used the money to move to Peking, to make friends with the right people and hire the right tutor. Before long, I was best friends with Jing-Li and had the run of the Forbidden City. I played with the Emperor's son and then we had everything we ever wanted."

Anna sighed. "They couldn't have paid that much for her, even if she did have bound feet. And you can't buy your accomplishments, no matter how much money you have. You worked hard. You studied hard. You—"

"It all began that day. Because of Xiao-Mei. Because she was sold into... into..." He couldn't finish his sentence, but then again, he didn't need to. They both knew the short, brutal life of a whore. "I started training with knives as soon as I could. That's why I use these small ones. I was too young to wield a heavy sword and I wanted to carry them all the time. I was never going to get caught unaware like that again."

There was nothing for Anna to say, no way to ease Zhi-Gang's pain. His life had begun when his sister's had ended. Did that make what he'd done with his life wrong? No. But it didn't end the guilt. Nor did it ease little Xiao-Mei's suffering.

"I'm so sorry," Anna whispered as she wrapped her arms around him. "I am sorry for your sister, sorry your family faced such a choice, and sorry that you bear the burden of supporting a family based on such a horrible thing. It is terrible, Zhi-Gang, but it doesn't make you irredeemable."

He didn't speak for a long time. If he cried, she couldn't tell, his body was so still. He remained tight and contained in her embrace until finally his body softened. He wrapped his arms around her and held her as tightly as she gripped him.

"I just want to find her," he whispered. "If she is dead, I will take her bones to Peking. I will bury them beside my mother and put a jade carving of her name on the family altar though she is a woman."

Anna swallowed, tears blurring her vision. She had a good idea how revolted his entire family would be at such a thing. To revere a prostitute? To put a woman's name in carved jade on the altar? Such things were not done except by a man like Zhi-Gang. A man who lived by his own strict code of honor and forced others to admit to their crimes. A carved slab of jade was a small price to pay for what his parents had done. And if he shamed them before their peers, then so be it. They should be shamed.

"But what if she is alive?" Anna asked. "What will you do then?"

"I will buy her freedom no matter the cost. Then she will live in her rightful place in my father's home. He will have to come home every day and look into his daughter's face. He will have to live with the daily reminder of what he did."

Fair enough. Zhi-Gang obviously lived with it. "But what of her?"

"I will shower her in silks and jewels. She will be honored for her sacrifice, treated better than any hero of China. I will make her life as beautiful as possible. That will be my thanks for what she did for me."

Anna smiled and pressed her lips to his neck. His skin was warm where she touched, if dry as parchment. On it she wrote her respect, her awe, and her love of him. She did it in kisses, in whispered caresses, and swift, sharp nips designed to inflame his senses. She did all these things, and together they discovered another use for a closed carriage beyond carting opium and bartered girls.

And when he was pressed deep inside her, she whispered words into his ears. She did not say what was in her heart, she did not speak of the love she had crushed a few nights before; what she said was simple and elegant and made him pour his seed into her like a great river gushing forward all its power.

Three words, but she knew from experience how wonderful they were. "I forgive you," she said. And then she repeated it as often as he allowed her the breath and space to say it. "I forgive you. I forgive you. I forgive you."

They arrived at the Tigress compound. Anna adjusted her clothing while Zhi-Gang resettled his knives. Then they stepped out of the carriage and prepared themselves to meet—and likely kill—the woman who taught whores as her part in this unholy business.

* * *

Whatever Zhi-Gang expected when he stepped into the Tan Tigress compound, it was not a white ship captain named Jonas Storm. The name fit, for Jonas was a huge bear of a man with curling dark hair and turbulent gray eyes. But he was quiet and unassuming in his own way-—like a poised thundercloud—and he greeted Zhi-Gang and Anna with perfect Chinese and equally polished manners.

Zhi-Gang gave the false name of Lan, and then the white man showed them to a receiving room. Tea arrived moments later, and the captain cut straight to the heart of the matter.

"How may the Tan home assist you, sir?" he asked.

"We search for a woman named Little Pearl," Zhi-Gang replied.

Captain Storm nodded. "So I was given to understand. May I ask why?"

"I come on behalf of the governor of the province of Jiangsu. I mean her no harm," Zhi-Gang lied. "But I wish to speak with her about a girl she may know."

The man's eyes narrowed, but not with animosity. "What is the girl's name?"

"Please," Zhi-Gang countered. "This is a matter best discussed with Little Pearl."

"And not a white man?" the captain challenged. "And yet you come with a white woman." His gaze cut to Anna, and he switched to English. "Are you well, ma'am? Do you need any assistance?"

It took a moment for Zhi-Gang to process the English words. Though he was well-versed in the language, the Captain spoke with his own accent and in words likely designed to confuse one who was not a native speaker.

Anna, too, frowned a moment before she answered. "I am well," she said in stilted English. "My apology. It long time since I use English. We tried to speak in Mandarin at mission." She blushed and looked at her hands. "I should speak better. I will be going to England. I need learn English better."

Zhi-Gang turned, touching her hand so that she looked directly at him. "He wants to know if I am hurting you," he said in Chinese. "If you are afraid of me and need his protection."

Anna blushed prettily and shook her head. "Oh no," she gasped. "I am quite safe."

In truth, Zhi-Gang could not tell if she was playing the innocent for Captain Storm's benefit or if she truly was embarrassed. Either way, his heart burned even brighter for her. Either she was extraordinarily skilled at manipulating others to her benefit, or she truly didn't understand how a white man might think her in danger from a Chinese.

The captain stared at her hard, and she returned his scrutiny with equal measure, even going so far as to arch an eyebrow when his study became obvious. The moment stretched on and on until the man slowly relaxed.

"He is looking for his sister. Tau Xiao-Mei," Anna explained. "Really, we mean no harm."

The captain's eyes flickered a moment in recognition, then his gaze steadied. Zhi-Gang saw the movement and nearly leapt from his seat to demand an answer, but Anna gripped his arm to hold him steady and Zhi-Gang settled on a barely controlled question.

"What do you know of my sister?"

The captain pushed to his feet. "If you wait here," he said. "I will get Little Pearl. Perhaps she can answer your questions." He shot them a wry grimace. "But it might take a moment. She's touchy about when she leaves her steamed bao."

Zhi-Gang nodded, though his belly was tightening with every moment that passed. He would find his sister. He would not let some cook or displaced white captain deter him. He would not—

"Try to relax," Anna said. Her hand covered his fist.

It was her touch more than her words that broke his fury. But then she continued speaking, and he found himself flowing into her words, the sharp bite of his mood smoothing out with her logic.

"We are here to gather information. She may or may not have it. And it's possible that Little Pearl has been helping the women she meets."

He slanted her a disbelieving look, but she squeezed his hands.

"It's possible. This place is not what it seems. What home in Chinese Shanghai is run by a white man? Give the woman a chance."

"She teaches whores, Anna." He shoved out of his seat to pace the room. "What does that mean? She shows them how to pickpocket their customers? How to cut opium and water down wine? Or maybe how to bilk secrets out of viceroys?"

Anna followed his movements with a steady gaze. "Would that matter?"

He spun, a sharp rebuke on his lips. But she raised her hand, stopping his words.

"What does it matter what she teaches, so long as it gives power to the powerless? Hope to the hopeless?" Anna stood, crossing to his side. "Do not condemn her until you understand."

"Wise words, white woman," came a voice from behind.

Both Zhi-Gang and Anna spun around to see a small woman with bound feet standing in the doorway. She wore a simple blue silk gown, rather commonplace in appearance but that hugged her young curves the way only a favorite garment could. Behind her stood the captain, one hand resting casually on the woman's shoulder, but his alert gaze showed him to be anything but relaxed.

Anna dipped her head in greeting. "Little Pearl, I assume?"

The woman didn't speak. Neither did Zhi-Gang. He stared at her, seeing in her face the exact image of his mother from years ago. From before they left Huai'an. From a time that never was, when his mother had been young and beautiful and unburdened by the sale of a daughter.

Little Pearl was his sister. She was Xiao-Mei.

Zhi-Gang stared at her, and she at him, while a lifetime of loss and hope thickened the air between them. In the end, it was Zhi-Gang who moved. It wasn't by conscious thought; his knees simply gave out. He dropped bit by bit, then furthered the movement by pressing his face to the dirty floor.

He could feel Anna's surprise as she tried to catch him. She thought he had fallen, but as he completed his kowtow, she relaxed her hands and stepped back. All the while, Zhi-Gang tried to speak, but his throat was frozen. No sound emerged though he tried. He tried with all his heart, but nothing came out.

In a moment, he would wonder how a girl sold into whoring could appear so beautiful nearly two decades later. In a while, he would have breath to ask the questions that crowded together on his numb tongue. But for now, all he could do was press his forehead to the dirt and pray she understood.

In the stunned silence, he finally heard her speak. Her voice was surprisingly mature given the youthful cast to her features. "Well, brother," she drawled. "This is a change. Me standing and you on your knees."

He looked up, his eyes moist, his mouth still frozen. In his mind's eye, he remembered every moment of when he lay crumpled against a table while he watched her dragged screaming from the house.

She stepped forward, her expression soft. "As you can see, I have learned how to walk on my tiny feet. I can fetch my own dolls, even manage a large household." She reached out and pulled a crease out of his ragged clothing. "All in all, I believe I have done better than you."

He blinked, confusion warring with guilt in his thoughts. And still no sound emerged from his mouth.

His sister rolled her eyes then folded her arms. The gesture was so reminiscent of his mother, Zhi-Gang nearly choked. "Oh, get up. It strains my back to talk leaning over like this."

How many times had his mother snapped at him in just that tone? Enough that he responded without thinking, lifting up to settle back on his heels, his jaw slack with shock. Beside him, Anna muffled a laugh. He even saw amusement flicker in the white captain's eyes. "How?" he finally managed.

"Aie-yah," his sister responded. "You haven't changed at all. No understanding of culture. Get up, brother. Drink your tea and eat a dumpling. They are excellent, you know," she said with clear pride. "And I will tell you everything."