White Tigress Read Free Page A

class establishment, he could still detect the nauseatingly sweet scent. He caught other odors as well—perfume from the "flowers" of this particular garden, tobacco smoke from the men content to look at them, sweat and stale yang essence from those who wanted more.
    All in all, Ru Shan found this garden as revolting as the "nail shed" shacks in the Shanghai slums, and he spun on his heel intending to leave. But his companion stopped him, her small white hand firm on his sleeve.
    "To catch a tiger's cub, one must enter the tiger's den," she intoned softly.
    "I have no need for a tiger cub today, Shi Po. And no patience for this..." What word to use to characterize the worst of what China had become? "This corruption."
    She smiled at him, her beauty still somehow shining through the veil that obscured her features. "Have I not guided you well until now? Trust me a little longer, Ru Shan. All will be made clear."
    Before he could reply, the Garden's proprietress came forward, along with a hulking half-breed standing guard behind her. "Greetings, greetings. How may I assist your honorable selves today?" she asked, her bow deep and respectful.
    It was on the tip of Ru Shan's tongue to tell her to give up her occupation, free her unfortunate flowers and devote herself to ascetic contemplation, but he knew his sarcasm would be lost on her. Worse yet, it would serve only to inflame his already irritated temper. So he remained silent, knowing Shi Po would have her little game. After all, in this, she was the instructor and he the student. So he remained silent when all in his nature urged him to act.
    Shi Po was looking about with the disdainful superiority that came from her husband's wealth. "We wish to view your whitest flower."
    Greed flashed, hot and hard in the proprietress's black eyes, but her movements were slow and graceful as she bowed again. "Of course, but she is resting now. Perhaps you could come back later?"
    Ru Shan recognized the ploy for what it was—a way to add anticipation to the purchase and a way to cover the real truth that the girl would always be resting: she was no doubt drugged insensible. But appearances had to be maintained, and so the game continued.
    "Perhaps we could just glance at her a moment?" Shi Po asked. "We shall remain absolutely silent." They wouldn't, of course, because the girl wouldn't wake until the drugs were washed from her body. And that, sometimes, took days.
    "She is very delicate," hedged the mistress.
    "Then," Ru Shan snapped, his patience worn thin, "we should just leave her to her rest." He turned for the door, fully intending to escape.
    He was stopped, of course, but not by the aged hag who ran this business. Shi Po's voice stopped him, her tone low and hard. "You came to me, Ru Shan. You asked for my help because I am the senior in these teachings, a tigress far ahead of you on the path to immortality. Will you take the instruction I offer?"
    Ru Shan stopped. He had to. He was in desperate straits. His mishandling of this situation was simply a further example of how much he needed whatever aid Shi Po could give him. He bit back his sigh and turned around.
    He didn't even hear if the proprietress said anything else. He merely followed mutely as he and Shi Po were led up the stairs. The half-breed, of course, brought up the rear, his presence a significant obstacle should Ru Shan try to leave again. He would not. He had already shown himself much too intemperate already. He would not leave the middle path again.
    Or so he swore to himself. As he had been swearing perhaps a dozen or more times each week for the last two years.
    The mistress led them to the highest floor, and then to a tiny, stifling closet of a room in the back of the house. It was hard for Shi Po to totter on her bound feet even with the help of a cane, but she was determined. And that more than anything else told Ru Shan that the woman was in earnest. Still, he hated this place and this tiny back room where