The Sword Dancer (Lovers and Rebels, #1; Tang Dynasty, #4)

by Jeannie Lin

There was no crime worse than the abuse of power. A common bandit might steal a sack of grain or a string of coins from an individual, but a dishonest bureaucrat stole from the entire population.

Lotus wasn’t jealous. Han would have to be an imperial minister of the first rank to make it worthwhile for Lotus to be jealous.

‘My father always insisted that one should not aim to prove the guilt or innocence of the accused,’ he said. ‘Rather one should strive to seek the truth.’

Scholars and aristocrats tended towards paleness, but Han had the complexion and demeanour of a rugged and world-toughened individual, someone who had braved the elements and much, much worse.

‘Everything we do, all that we touch, leaves a trace,’ he said, sounding more like a philosopher than a hardened thief-catcher. ‘We have knowledge that has survived from the first dynasty, over a thousand years ago. Fifteen years is not so long a time.’

She wasn’t expecting poetic declarations of love and longing, just…something to not feel so empty inside.

In these troubled times, local outlaws were often treated like local heroes. Even worse was the case of privateers and smugglers.

History repeating itself since forever.

Tan was the sort that spoke with his hands. Even while walking, he would pause to turn and make his gestures visible.

🙋🏻‍♀️

In Li Feng’s world, material possessions held no value, but loyalty was priceless. She believed in protecting the weak. She was also so starved of contact that anyone who helped her was quickly taken in to her circle of trust. Even if he was a thief-catcher.

No matter how strong the ties of family were, Zheng Hao Han wasn’t meant to die in a thoughtless ambush in the woods.

‘I never imagined that you actually went anywhere once I escaped from you.’

He wielded a sword and fought like a warrior, but his heart and mind was that of a scholar.

Only Li Feng knew who he truly was, with no illusions of what he should have been. Han had never felt so close to anyone.

‘I never considered that Lo wanted to die as a gentleman.’

‘What would I be giving up? I’m a thief-catcher, Li Feng. A man with a sword and nothing else. This isn’t a life.’

He would never take the imperial exams or serve as magistrate, but he was trying to uphold the ideal of justice the only way he could.

Han couldn’t escape the feeling he was being bought, but he was being bought for something he felt already duty-bound to do and for a price that benefited not him, but his family.

You young and spirited fellows can do all the hard work. I can take all the glory.’

Lol

Li Feng was more artist than killer, but she was presenting a good semblance of the killing part.

Han wondered whether it was study of the classics and poetry that gave such men so many extra words that meant nothing.

He was from the world of courts and laws. She belonged to the rivers and lakes outside the city walls.

Justice wasn’t the same for everyone. It wasn’t a sacred, immutable force.

‘For a man of the sword, you have a scholar’s weakness for sentimentality.