Chapter 4

Life in Willow Alley flowed quiet and long. On afternoons without wonton sales, Xizhou tended vegetables, repaired fences, fed chickens, or sat carving wood while the little yellow dog lay at his feet. I sunbathed beneath the eaves on Doctor Zhang’s advice. Winter sunlight felt warm and alien on skin kept jade-white because courtesans belonged to the night.

The scraping stopped. In Xizhou’s hands was an unrecognizable beast—neither dog nor pig. I clicked my tongue, seized his knife, and expertly carved Ah Huang from a block. Father had once been a respected carpenter; before gambling ruined him, our family should have been happy. The thought soured me. I threw the finished dog into Xizhou’s lap.

He praised my skill and showed it to Ah Huang. I was no sister to that yellow mutt, but when its warm tail brushed my leg, I did not move away.

Now, waking in Spring Breeze House after the snow, I wrapped myself in white fox fur and visited Ah Huang. Coarse cotton had felt warm in Willow Alley; even priceless fur and red charcoal could not warm me here.

The dog had its own heated room and attendants. Spring Breeze House perfected worship of the powerful: when a master had value, even her animals rose with her. Ah Huang trusted no one but me and still refused food.

I pinched its ear. “Do you miss him too?”

It laid its furry head on my knee, dark eyes misted. I covered them. “Don’t look at me that way. I’ll cry. And it is not yet time to cry.”