07

Mo'lan sat down in a huff.  She wrapped her hands around her knees and raised an eyebrow at Bingquing who was obeying the command.  "Qing-er, I thought we were going to meet someone rich.  This looks like some old geeser's house whose run into hard times.  I don't want to be the wife of a crumbling old man.  I'm still young.  This is the opposite of what you promised me . . . I know I'm not supposed to trust someone who is more intelligent than me, but I feel like you're very nice to me."

"Maybe he'll be nice to you, mam.  You should kneel like the guard said.  It might not be what you think."  Bingquing said quickly.  She said this more out of a fear that the guard was a fan of collective punishment.  She did not want then, for Mo'lan to be whipped for being ostentatious.

Mo'lan complied in an irritated fashion, "You know the only reason I'm doing this is because I don't want to see his ugly face when he coos over how beautiful I am compared to you. Qing, since I am also responsible for bringing you here, I'll try to beg for you to be my maid.  I'll use my beauty for our benefits."

Bingquing was trying to think of a reply when a housemaid opened the door.  The guard's shoes came in view first.  He paused and then stood behind the two girls he had bought.  The second pair of shoes were incredibly beautiful to Bingquing's peeking eyes.  They were emerald fabric that had been expertly embroidered with jumping tigers in gold thread. The feet were attached to thin lanky calves which made Bingquing wonder of the health of her owner.  In her mind she pictured a stooped over grisled man from raging wars he participated in to protect carravans crossing the Silk Road from Persia or India.

He strutted in front of them confidently.  The fabric of his clothes were perfumed with something that reminded Bingquing of a pine forest.  She couldn't put a finger on it.

His soft velvet voice, destroyed her suspicions.  It was a well-bred young man's voice.  His accent was distinctly that of the Caiwong Empire's upper class.  "Ning Fan, are these the women?"

The guard or Ning Fan bowed, "Your highness, it was recommended by your uncle that you take a concubine or have a bedchamber maid to start your harem.  For appearance's sake that you took up your uncle's good advice we needed to procure a woman."

The voice had a lit as he assessed the work of his servant, "I see two."

"Highness, as you have never brought home a woman or shown interest in the noble brides offered to you . . . I choose two of different types to serve you."

"I could like men you know."  The voice was slurred a bit as he assessed his potential.  "Now, now ladies I am gesting.  I am a scholar so I keep to my books and riddles.  Now I want to see your faces.  Look up."

Bingquing and Mo'lan both moved their heads up in tandem. 

Mo'lan gasped and shook her billowing sleeves in delight as she screamed, "You're not an old man.  Thank goodness.  I'll be your anything.  You're so beautiful."  She quickly covered her mouth and blushed strongly.

The man was indeed attractive with high aristocratic cheekbones and piercing eyes that radiated intelligence.  Bingquing was strangely infatuated with his mouth which was hypnotically angled in a smile.  She couldn't stop looking at it. It reminded her of the mouth of a cat.  His piercing gaze was warm as it met hers.  The pupils dilated by alcohol, curious as they bore into hers.

Mo'lan put her head down in shame.  Her exaggerated sleeves making her look like a sitting doll.

He assessed them with a cool stare.  Bingquing looked around the room curiously as he waited for her eyes to meet his again.  When they did, his smile was mischievous.  "You, the one with the beautiful dress.  What is your name?"

Mo'lan's head shot up in alarm, "This one is Mo'lan, sir.  I am sorry that I spoke out of turn."

"You want to be a concubine?"

Mo'lan blushed again, "I want beautiful things.  A man would be nice."

"Is that so?"  He turned to Ning Fan.  "Put her back in the carriage to take her to a beautiful place."

Mo'lan was delighted.  She gathered her skirts and followed the guard with glee.  She stuck her tongue out when she passed Bingquing, "I got what I wanted and you got nothing.  Have a good time scrubbing floors for the rest of your life, ugly.  You're too filthy to even carry my shoe cushion."

After Mo'lan had gone, the Master swung his ceramic wine pot around and grinned at Bingquing, "Do you want to know what I'm going to do with her?"

Bingquing bowed her head, "This one is not worthy to ask what is going on in another's mind."

He pointed at her with a drunken half grin.  "You're so perfect.  But, I did hear everything she said to you when you two were alone.  What's her name again?  Oh Mo-La-Na . . . it could be a rhyme if she was truly beauty.  You know I could have any woman in the capital.  I've been to pleasure houses.  I've seen the most beautiful of females in every state, in every class, in every . . . you know the one thing they all have in common--"  He paused to take a swing of his wine.  "They leech off men until they have what they want and move onto the next one.  My mother was like that.  Do you know she was executed?"