5
five monkeys shan, knowing there was something fishy about the fire that night, seriouslyconsidered getting up and helping to fight it, thus carrying out his responsibilities as village chief.
but little white lamb, the voluptuous opium peddlar, wrapped her arms around him andwouldn’t let go. two bandit gangs had once fought over this girl, with her fair skin and moist,captivating, suggestive eyes – what is called ‘fighting over the nest’ in bandit parlance. she was aliving sign that the war being waged by gaomi county magistrate nine dreams cao was farfrom won.
in 1923, nine dreams cao had been serving the northern warlord government as magistratefor nearly three years, and his ‘three torches’ were blazing. for him the earthly scourges werebanditry, opium, and gambling, and the only way to put the world in order was to annihilatebandits, stamp out opium, and outlaw gambling. his favourite punishment was a beating with thesole of a shoe; hence his nickname, shoe sole cao the second. a complex individual for whomthe words ‘good’ and ‘bad’ are woefully inadequate, he was involved in many important wayswith my family, so it is appropriate to include him in this narrative as a link to what follows.
in two years of draconian decrees, nine dreams cao had achieved considerable results in hisrampage against the three scourges. but northeast gaomi township was a long way from thecounty seat, and behind the scenes gambling, opium, and bandits flourished as never before.
five monkeys shan slept till dawn with little white lamb in his arms. she awoke first. afterlighting the bean-oil lamp, she stuck a silver pin into an opium pellet and thrust it into the flames.
once it caught fire, she stuffed it into a silver pipe and handed it to five monkeys shan, whocurled up in bed and inhaled for a minute or so. a tiny white dot glowed on the pellet. afterholding his breath for two minutes, he exhaled streams of thin blue smoke through his mouth andnostrils, just as one of the shan family’s hired hands banged frantically on the door and reported:
‘village chief! terrible news! murder!’
five monkeys shan accompanied the hired hand into the shan compound, with several othermen on his heels. then he followed the trail of blood to the inlet at the western edge of thevillage. the crowd behind him swelled.
‘the bodies must be at the bottom of the river,’ he said.
no one made a sound.
‘who’ll go down and drag them up?’
the men exchanged glances, but said nothing.
the emerald-green water was smooth as glass. water lilies floated placidly on the surface, withscattered dewdrops sticking to the leaves nearest the water, as moist and round as pearls.
‘one silver dollar. now who’ll go?’
still no sound.
an acrid stench rose from the inlet, and an unimaginably foul red glare emerged from a puddleof purplish blood in the reeds at the water’s edge. the sun rose above the field, white at the topand green at the bottom, sizzling like a chunk of partially fired steel. a line of black clouds abovethe horizon of sorghum tips stretched far off into the distance, so level you’d think your eyeswere playing tricks on you. the inlet sparkled like a river of gold, broken only by the water lilies,which seemed otherworldly.
‘who’ll go down for a silver dollar?’ five monkeys shan asked in a booming voice.
the ninety-two-year-old woman from our village told me, ‘no man would have dared go intoan inlet filled with the blood of a leper, not even for his own mother! if he did, he’d come outinfected. if two went in, they’d both come out infected. not for any amount of money?.?.?. all thatevil was caused by your grandma and your granddad!’ i wasn’t happy with the old hag forplacing the blame on granddad and grandma, but as i looked at her clay-pot head i just smiledweakly.
‘nobody’s willing to go down? not a fucking one of you? then we’ll just let father and soncool off in the water! old liu, arhat liu, since you’re the foreman, go into town and report thisto shoe sole cao the second.’
in preparation for the trip, uncle arhat liu wolfed down some food, followed it with half agourdful of wine, then led out one of the black mules, tied a burlap bag over its back, andmounted it. he headed west, towards the county town.
uncle arhat wore a sombre expression that morning, from either anger or resentment. he was thefirst to suspect that something terrible had befallen his master and the master’s son following thesuspicious fire. up at the first light of dawn, he was surprised to note that the western compoundgate was wide open. he spotted blood on the ground as soon as he walked into the yard, andmore of it inside the house. even in his confused state he knew that the fire and blood-lettingwere linked.
since he and all the other hands knew that the young master had leprosy, they did not enter thewestern compound unless it was absolutely necessary, and then only after spraying mouthfuls ofwine over their bodies. uncle arhat believed that sorghum wine was an effective disinfectant forall kinds of dangerous germs. when shan bianlang’s bride entered the compound three daysearlier, no villagers were willing to assist, so naturally he and an old distillery hand were left tohelp her out of the sedan chair. as he held her arm and walked her into the house, he glanced ather out of the corner of his eye, seeing her delicate bound feet and her plump wrist, as big aroundas a lotus root, and he couldn’t stifle a sigh. in the midst of his shock over the murder of old manshan and his son days later, the image of grandma’s tiny feet and full wrist appeared andreappeared in his mind. he didn’t know if the sight of all that blood made him sad or happy.
uncle arhat whipped the big black mule, wishing it could sprout wings and fly him to town. heknew there would be more excitement to come, since the flowery, jadelike little bride would bereturning from her parents’ home tomorrow morning on her donkey. who would be thebeneficiary of the shan family’s vast holdings? things like that were best left to nine dreamscao to decide. after having overseen gaomi county for three years, cao had earned thesobriquet ‘upright magistrate’. people talked about how he dispatched cases with the wisdom ofthe gods, the vigour of thunder, and the speed of wind; about how he was just and honourable,never favouring his own kin over others; and about how he meted out death sentences withoutbatting an eye. uncle arhat smacked the mule’s rump harder.
the mule flew west towards the county town, pounding the ground with its rear hooves whenits front legs were curled up, then stretching out its front legs and curling its rear legs. themovement produced a rhythm of hoofbeats that belied the seemingly chaotic motion. dust flewlike blossoming flowers in the glinting light of the horseshoes. the sun was still in thesoutheastern corner of the sky when uncle arhat reached the jiao-ping–jinan rail line. the mulebalked at crossing the tracks so uncle arhat jumped down and tried to pull it across. but since hewas no match for the animal’s strength, he sat down on the ground, gasping for breath and tryingto figure out what to do next. the sunlight hurt his eyes. he stood up, wrapped his jacket aroundthe mule’s eyes, and led it in a circle a few times before crossing the tracks.
two black- uniformed policemen guarded the town’s northern gate, each armed with ahanyang rifle. since it was market day in gaomi county, a stream of pushcarts, peddlars withcarrying poles, and people on mules and on foot passed through the town gate. ignoring thetraffic, the policemen busied themselves leering at pretty girls passing in front of them.
uncle arhat led his mule onto the main street of town, paved with green cobblestones thatclattered loudly under the mule’s shod hooves. to the south, the huge market square was jammedwith people from every trade and occupation, haggling over prices, shouting and carrying on,buying and selling everything under the sun.
in no mood to get caught up in the excitement, uncle arhat led the mule up to the gate of thegovernment compound, which looked like a dilapidated monastery, its tile roofs covered withyellow weeds and green grass. the red paint on the gate was peeling badly. an armed sentrystood to the left, while to the right a bare-chested man supported himself with both hands on astaff resting in a smelly honeypot.
uncle arhat bowed to the sentry. ‘sir,’ he said, ‘i need to report to county magistrate cao.’
‘magistrate cao took master yan to market,’ the sentry replied.
‘when will he be back?’
‘how should i know? go look for him at the market square if you’re in such a hurry.’
uncle arhat bowed again. ‘thank you, sir.’
seeing that uncle arhat was about to walk away, the bare-chested man sprang into action,churning his staff up and down in the honeypot and shouting, ‘come look, come look,everybody, come look. my name is wang haoshan. i cheated people with a phony contract, andthe county magistrate sentenced me to stir up a honeypot.?.?.?.’
uncle arhat and the mule entered the crowded market square, where people were sellingbaked buns, flatcakes, and sandals. there were scribes, fortune- tellers, beggers using everyimaginable ploy, peddlars of aphrodisiacs, trained monkeys, gong- banging hawkers of maltsugar, knickknack vendors, storytellers with tales of romance and intrigue, dealers in leeks,cucumbers, and garlic, sellers of barber razors and pipe bowls, noodle sellers, rat- poisonmerchants, honeyed-peach sellers, child vendors – yes, even a ‘child market’, where childrenwith straw markers on their collars could be bought or sold. the black mule kept rearing its head,making the steel bit in its mouth sing out. the sun was directly overhead, blazing down on unclearhat, drenching his purple jacket with his own sweat.
uncle arhat spotted the official he was looking for at the chicken market.
magistrate cao had a ruddy face, bulging eyes, a square mouth, and a thin moustache. he wasdecked out in a dark-green tunic and a brown wool formal hat. he carried a walking stick.
caught up in resolving a dispute, he had drawn quite a crowd. instead of forcing his way to thefront, uncle arhat led the mule out of the crowd, which blocked his view of what was going on,then mounted up, giving himself the best seat in the house.
a little runt of a man was standing beside the tall magistrate cao, and uncle arhat assumed itmust be the master yan to whom the sentry had referred. two men and a woman stood coweringbefore magistrate cao, their faces bathed in sweat. the woman’s cheeks were made even wetterby her tears. a fat hen lay on the ground at her feet.
‘worthy magistrate, your honour,’ she sobbed, ‘my mother-in-law can’t stop menstruating,and we have no money for medicine. that’s why we’re selling this laying hen.?.?.?. he says thehen is his.?.?.?.’
‘the hen is mine. if the magistrate doesn’t believe me, ask my neighbour here.’
magistrate cao pointed to a man in a skullcap. ‘can you verify that?’
‘worthy magistrate, i am wu the third’s neighbour, and this hen of his wanders into my yardevery day to steal my chickens’ food. my wife’s always complaining about it.’
the woman screwed up her face, without saying a word, and burst out crying.
magistrate cao removed his hat, spun it around on his middle finger, then put it back on.
‘what did you feed your chicken this morning?’ he asked wu the third, who rolled his eyesand replied, ‘cereal mash mixed with bran husks.’
‘he’s telling the truth, he is,’ the man in the skullcap confirmed. ‘i saw his wife mixing itwhen i went over to borrow his axe this morning.’
magistrate cao turned to the crying woman. ‘don’t cry, countrywoman. tell me what you fedyour chicken this morning.’
‘sorghum,’ she said between sobs.
‘little yan,’ magistrate cao said, ‘kill the chicken!’
with lightning speed, yan slit the hen’s crop and squeezed out a gooey mess of sorghumseeds.
with a menacing laugh magistrate cao said, ‘you’re a real scoundrel, wu the third. now,since you caused the death of this hen, you can pay for it. three silver dollars!’
wu the third, shaking like a leaf, reached into his pocket and pulled out two silver dollars andtwenty copper coins. ‘magistrate, your honour,’ he said fearfully, ‘this is all i have.’
‘you’re getting off light!’ magistrate cao said, handing the money to the woman.
‘magistrate, your honour,’ the woman said, ‘a hen isn’t worth all that much. i only wantwhat’s coming to me.’
magistrate cao raised his hands to his forehead, uttered an exclamation, and said, ‘you’retruly a decent, upright woman. nine dreams cao salutes you!’ bringing his legs together, heremoved his hat and bowed low.
the poor woman was so flustered she could only gaze at nine dreams cao through tear-filledeyes. once she’d regained her senses, she fell to her knees and said over and over, ‘his honour,the upright magistrate! his honour, the upright magistrate!’
magistrate cao placed his walking stick under her arm. ‘up, get up.’
the countrywoman got to her feet.
‘i can tell you are a filial daughter by the way you came to market in shabby clothes and poorhealth to sell a hen for the sake of your mother-in-law. nothing impresses the magistrate likefilial piety. take the money and look after your mother-in-law. take the chicken as well. clean itand make a nice soup for her.’
money in one hand, chicken in the other, the woman walked away, murmuring her gratitude.
meanwhile, the deceitful wu the third and the neighbour who had served as his witness stoodunder the blazing sun trembling with fright.
‘wu the third, you scoundrel,’ nine dreams cao commanded, ‘drop your pants.’
wu was too bashful to do as he was told.
‘you tried to cheat that good woman in broad daylight,’ magistrate cao rebuked him. ‘it’spretty late for modesty, isn’t it? do you know what shame is selling for these days? drop ’em!’
wu the third dropped his pants.
nine dreams cao took off one of his shoes and handed it to little yan. ‘two hundred lashes.
all cheeks. ass and face!’
holding magistrate cao’s thick-soled shoe in his hand, little yan kicked wu the third to theground, took aim at his exposed backside, and started in, fifty on each side, until wu wasscreaming for his parents and begging for mercy, his buttocks swelling up in plain sight ofeveryone. then it was his face’s turn, again fifty on each side; that stopped his screams.
magistrate cao placed the tip of his walking stick on wu the third’s forehead and said, ‘willyou try something like that again, you old scoundrel?’
wu the third, whose cheeks were so puffy he could barely open his mouth, responded bypounding his head on the ground as though he were crushing garlic.
‘as for you,’ nine dreams cao said, pointing to the man who’d served as witness, ‘an ass-kisser who’d make up a story like that is the scum of the earth. i’m not going to give you a tasteof the bottom of my shoe, because your ass would only soil it. since you prefer something sweet,i’ll let you lick the ass of your rich buddy. little yan, go buy a pot of honey.’
little yan moved towards the crowd, which parted to let him pass. the false witness fell to hisknees and banged his head so hard on the ground that his skullcap fell off.
‘get up! get up! get up!’ nine dreams cao commanded. ‘i’m not going to have you beaten orpunished. i’m going to treat you to some honey, so what are you pleading for?’
when little yan returned with the honey, nine dreams cao pointed to wu the third. ‘spreadit on his ass!’
little yan rolled wu over on his belly, picked up a stick, and spread the potful of honey overhis swollen buttocks.
‘start licking,’ nine dreams cao ordered the false witness. ‘you like kissing ass, don’t you?
okay, start licking!’
the false witness kept kowtowing loudly. ‘magistrate, your honour,’ he pleaded, ‘magistrate,your honour, i promise i’ll never again?.?.?.’
‘get the shoe ready, little yan,’ nine dreams cao said. ‘and really put some arm into it thistime.’
‘don’t hit me,’ the false witness screamed, ‘don’t hit me! i’ll lick it.’
he crawled up to wu the third, stuck out his tongue, and began lapping up the sticky,transparent threads of honey.
the looks on the hot, sweaty faces of observers can hardly be described.
sometimes fast, sometimes slowly, the false witness licked on, stopping only to throw up,which turned wu the third’s buttocks into a mottled mess. seeing that he’d accomplished’ hispurpose, nine dreams cao roared, ‘that’s enough, you scum!’
the man stopped licking, pulled his jacket up over his head, and lay on the ground, refusing toget up.
as nine dreams cao and little yan turned to leave, uncle arhat jumped off his mule andshouted, ‘upright magistrate! i come to file a grievance –’
