“What could they possibly be talking about?” Juliette grumbled, releasing the rose in her hand. “It’s been hours. Move it to another day—”
Lord Cai’s office door finally opened, revealing a Nationalist taking his leave. Months ago, Juliette would have been curious about the meeting, would have asked for a briefing. Now the sight of Nationalists coming and going in this house was so common that she hardly cared. It was always the same—squash the Communists, whatever the cost. Riddle them with bullets, break up their labor unions: the Nationalists didn’t mind how the Scarlets did it, so long as they achieved their objectives.
The Nationalist hovered at the doorway, then turned back, as if he had one more thing he forgot to say. Juliette narrowed her eyes. The sight of Nationalists had grown familiar to her, true, but this one . . . There were stars and badges galore decorating his uniform. A general, perhaps.
Testing her limits, Juliette held out her hand for Kathleen to take. Kathleen, albeit confused, accepted and picked up her folder, both of them walking toward the Nationalist.
“No more warlords.” The Nationalist flicked an imaginary piece of lint off his military uniform. “And no more foreigners. We enter a new world, and whether the Scarlet Gang enters with us is a matter of loyalty—”
“Yes, yes,” Juliette interrupted, squeezing past him and pulling Kathleen along. “Blessed be the Kuomintang, wàn suì wàn suì wàn wàn suì . . .” She started to push at the door.
“Juliette,” Lord Cai snapped.
Juliette stopped. A glint had entered her eye. The same sort that came about when the cooks brought out her favorite meal. The same sort when she spotted a diamond necklace she wanted in the window of a department store.
“Present and reporting,” she said.
Lord Cai leaned back in his large chair, folding his hands over his stomach. “Apologize, please.”
Juliette bobbed an unbothered curtsy. When she looked at the Nationalist, he was observing her carefully, but it was not the leer of men on the streets. It was something far more strategic.
“Please accept my apologies. I trust you can find your way to the door?”
The Nationalist tipped his hat. Though he offered her a smile, as was polite, the expression stopped entirely before reaching his eyes, merely crinkling his crow’s feet without any sign of warmth.
“Of course. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Cai.”
He had not been introduced to her, so they had not made an acquaintance at all. Juliette did not say this; she merely closed the door, then rolled her eyes in Kathleen’s direction.
“So tiresome. When you’re on your way out, then leave.”
“Juliette,” Lord Cai said again, with less bite now that the Nationalist was no longer present for Juliette to be a pest in front of. “That was Shu Yang. General Shu. Do you know who he is? Have you been following the papers and the advancement of the Northern Expedition at all?”
Juliette winced. “Bàba,” she started. She dropped into a seat opposite her father’s desk. Kathleen silently followed suit. “The Northern Expedition is so terribly boring—”
“It will determine the fate of our country—”
“Okay, fine, fine—the reports are so boring. General so-and-so took this segment of land. Army division so-and-so moved this far up. I practically cry in excitement when you send me to strangle someone instead.” Juliette clasped her hands together. “Please, just let me do the strangling.”
Her father shook his head, not bothering to entertain her theatrics. His eyes only swiveled toward the door thoughtfully.
“Pay attention to this,” Lord Cai said slowly. “The Kuomintang is changing shape. Heaven knows they are no longer pretending to cooperate with the Communists. We can afford carelessness no longer.”
Juliette thinned her lips but did not get smart with her response. Revolution was coming; she couldn’t deny that. The Northern Expedition, that was what they called it: Nationalist troops marching north through the country, fighting the warlords that ruled regions and fragments, seizing territories in an attempt to piece China back together. Shanghai would be the stronghold, the last piece before the current poor excuse of a national government was utterly ousted, and when the armies came, there were no warlords here to defeat. . . . There were only gangs and foreigners.
So the Scarlet Gang needed to get on the right side before they arrived.
“Of course,” Juliette said. “Now—” She gestured for Kathleen to go on. Almost hesitantly, her cousin leaned toward Lord Cai’s desk, gingerly passing the folder in her hands.