Breaking Bamboo (40 page)

‘Because one of my girls failed to satisfy that bastard Weng-Pa, the judge’s head clerk,’ coughed Ping. ‘Or to be truer, he was incapable of satisfying her. So I am punished for another man’s shame. My crime is that I was foolish enough to joke about it, because I was drunk.’

Shih, wracked by hunger, had a vision of Ping’s establishment.

‘I remember the charcoal brazier where you grilled pig’s kidneys,’ he said. ‘They were tossed, still sizzling, in sauce and spices.’

‘Hey!’ shouted an eavesdropper. ‘Don’t talk like that! It makes my hunger worse.’

‘No,’ came another voice from the dark, full of longing. ‘Tell us more! What else was there? What did you drink?’

That night Ping died quite suddenly and Shih propped the body on his shoulder. When the night warders passed with their lantern, he dared not mention the dead prisoner in case the corpse inconvenienced them. Shih did not fear the dead; he had seen too many arrivals and departures to doubt they were merely points on a circle.

Strange hours followed. Shih’s mind swirled with many questions as the dead man stiffened beside him. If the object of justice is correction, what was he to be corrected for? Marrying his master’s daughter without consent? But his master had been dead. Stealing from his former master? But he had purposefully taken nothing. Cao, it was true, had carried away a small portion of the inheritance she was owed – a little
cash
and a case of silver needles. Was he, Yun Shih, really complicit in that? He had not discovered the theft – if theft it was – until they arrived in the Twin Cities.

Shih, as was his habit, looked for holes in his own reasoning. . .

One might argue that, upon discovering the needles, he should have rushed back to the capital and delivered them to his master’s brother and heir. Perhaps he could have done so, though they had no
cash
for such a journey. Perhaps he should be more perfect than other men.

Shih itched to relieve his feelings by walking up and down but he was trapped, a fetid corpse heavy against his shoulder.

His mournful thoughts shifted from Ping to Mother. Again tears filled his eyes. Poor Mother! Oh, poor Mother! Guang had told him how she had died tending Father through his madness in Whale Rock Monastery. How cruel, as though Heaven hated his family, yet Mother deserved no punishment at all. Shih felt an overwhelming desire to stamp on Father’s absurd fishes until they twitched no more.

Then he bowed his head to another grief. If only he could beg forgiveness of those he had wronged! Guang, for taunting him at their last meeting. Even Wang Ting-bo’s discarded concubine. Oh, he was no better than lustful Lord Yun! He had conceived of her as no more than a forbidden excitement, just like Aunt Qin. Shih squirmed inwardly. How vulnerable the girl was behind her layers of white paint.

Shih steadied Ping’s corpse so that it did not slip from the bench to the rat-infested ground. After all, it is a rat’s nature to eat what is offered. One could not blame them, any more than one could blame humans for making more mouths to feed when half the world starved. Oh, he did not care to contem-plate children. The cruel injustice that assigned child after child to dismal parents and none at all to those who would be most loving.

The cell remained in darkness. A faint trickle down the walls indicated it was raining outside. Dr Shih licked the ribbon of moisture thirstily. Then he meditated on his wife’s dear face, taken for granted over so many years, yet elevated to a sunrise in this windowless place. Memories of her became all his sunlight and so, quite naturally, she cast shadows.

*

Cao sat alone in the silent shop. All the shutters of the windows facing North Canal Street were closed. A little light filtered in from the corridor at the rear of the counter, otherwise there was only shadow. It had been that way ever since Shih’s arrest a week earlier. Cao had barely eaten, as though starving herself might bring about his release. Each day she prepared food for Lu Ying and Father-in-law, as well as a dose of the draught Shih used to settle the old man’s nerves.

From dawn until nightfall hardly a word was exchanged in the house. This suited Cao. Her heart was too burdened for talk. Even now, the exact charges against her husband were unstated.

When Cao visited the Prefectural prison that morning she was informed by a surly official that all accusations would be declared when Dr Shih came to justice; in the meantime, an innocent man need fear nothing.

‘As for the guilty, Madam. . .’ He let his voice trail.

Cao, who felt guilty to her core, blanched in a way the official found interesting.

‘When is my husband’s trial to take place?’ she asked.

The official narrowed his eyes, perhaps considering whether it was disrespectful to ask so forward a question. ‘It is tomorrow,’ he said.

‘Sir,’ pleaded Cao. ‘May I not see my husband?’

‘You are more likely to have an audience with the Pacification Commissioner himself!’ replied the official, frowning haughtily.

Yet his voice was tired. Cao sensed he had used these same words a hundred times before and with the same forbidding expression, to as many concerned relatives.

As she walked back to Water Basin Ward through the humid streets, Cao was forced to step aside. A company of cross - bowmen were marching south to take their turn on the ramparts. Ever since the onset of the monsoon, the Mongols had ceased their attacks, yet everyone knew the misery of daily assaults would resume in a few months’ time. General A-ku was merely resting his forces and using them to strengthen and extend the siege works choking the Twin Cities.

In Apricot Corner Court, Madam Cao found her unwanted guest lifting the wooden lid of a clay storage jar in the kitchen.

Startled, the girl let the lid fall with a dull clatter. The older woman met her eye, aware her own were swollen by weeping.

‘Are you hungry, Miss Lu Ying?’ she asked.

The concubine flushed with relief.

‘Oh yes, Madam Cao! Do not mistake me, I quite understand your pre-occupation and why our meals are so late. What with Dr Shih’s. . . Well, I’m sure you do not wish to discuss such an unpleasant thing.’

Cao shivered. It was everything she wished to discuss. Yet it seemed she had neither friend nor relative she dare confide in.

Even Widow Mu kept her distance, afraid the laws of collective punishment might be somehow visited on Apricot Corner Court. While understanding her friend’s motives, Cao felt the betrayal deeply. It appeared Widow Mu’s dead husband had advised her in a dream not to get involved and, like any dutiful wife, she had no choice but to obey.

‘Miss Lu Ying,’ said Cao. ‘There is something I hoped to ask.’

Cao hesitated, aware how easily her superiority over the girl had turned to its opposite. Was it not the fate of all women, to float or sink like ships carried by the tides of their men? She laboured on: ‘Miss Lu Ying, can you not use your influence with His Excellency to lessen my husband’s discomfort? After all, Dr Shih was kind to you. And now he is in danger. His Excellency would surely read a petition from you with great attention.’

Lu Ying met her hopeful gaze. Then glanced away.

‘Madam Cao,’ she said. ‘You exaggerate my influence. It appears to be very little.’

Nevertheless Wang Ting-bo had recently ordered the delivery of extra rations to Apricot Corner Court for his former concubine’s sustenance. A small quantity, it was true, but enough to indicate she was remembered – and perhaps more.

Cao suspected that communications of a secret nature had passed between Lu Ying and the Pacification Commissioner. A liveried servant from Peacock Hill had called on two occasions since Shih’s arrest, conferring with the former concubine in a low voice. Perhaps this humble emissary signalled Lu Ying’s restoration was imminent. Yet when Cao had hinted at the possibility, the girl’s face went quite blank. One might almost imagine the question caused her distress.

‘I might only make such a petition to His Excellency once,’ added Lu Ying. ‘Not that I do not feel grateful to Dr Shih – and to yourself! Only I am like an archer with one arrow. I must preserve it for myself. Would not anyone do the same?’

Madam Cao lowered her eyes in despair and seemed hardly aware of the question.

‘What pains me most,’ she whispered. ‘Is that our former apprentice conspires in the prosecution against Dr Shih. We saved him from ruin, you know.’

‘I never liked him,’ said Lu Ying. ‘Quite, quite ugly.’

‘He was so sad a child, and very thin. Yet between us we restored his health and humour and plumpness. Yet I am told he will stand witness against Dr Shih tomorrow. How can such things be?’

‘I must return to my room,’ said Lu Ying.

‘Yes, go,’ said Cao, not bitterly. She was too preoccupied for bitterness. ‘Forgive me for detaining you.’

Lu Ying bowed low for the first time since she had arrived at Apricot Corner Court and shuffled away on her tiny, lotus feet.

*

It is said: in death, avoid hell; in life, avoid the law courts. Cao remembered this proverb as she rose at dawn and hastily prepared simple meals of grain for those dependent upon her.

She dressed in her most respectable silks – a long trailing skirt and sober belted jacket of blue – gathering every
cash
coin and precious thing they still possessed, in case she might yet be able to bribe the judge. Even a small gift might brighten His Honour’s mood. On the other hand, it might offend his sense of im portance. All their real wealth was invested in Apricot Corner Court and one could hardly hand over a wooden house.

As Cao was about to leave, she heard a knock on the door leading to the inner courtyard.

Upon opening it, she recoiled in surprise. A crowd of forty or fifty people were gathered round the apricot tree, muttering among themselves. Cao was surprised to see Widow Mu at the rear, accompanied by her daughter, Lan Tien. At the front of the crowd stood their other neighbour, Old Hsu. His eyes brightened at the sight of her and he bowed respectfully.

‘Madam Cao,’ he said, in his rasping voice. ‘It is a blessing to detain you before you depart for your husband’s – ahem –
arraignment
.’ This obscure statement and grand word evidently pleased Old Hsu.

‘You see,’ said Old Hsu. ‘We wish to escort you to the Prefectural court.’

Cao dabbed her eyes. It was an old custom in the city for friends and well-wishers to attend court hearings so that the judge might know the accused was not without clan. Tears welled and Cao bowed at the crowd.

‘Behold all the residents of Apricot Corner Court!’ said Old Hsu. ‘And dozens of Dr Shih’s patients, all wishing to testify to his good name. Orderly Mung Po is with us, as are the entire Xue and Rashid clans, and many more besides! It is our intention to sway the court.’

Now Cao blinked in joyful wonder.

‘You need say no more,’ said Old Hsu. ‘You are a woman and silence is best. I shall speak on behalf of everyone here.’

This seemed less sensible.

‘Master Hsu,’ she said. ‘Forgive me, but do you not recall how His Honour singled you out when he came to Apricot Corner Court? You may be sure he remembers you.’

‘Madam, it is a risk I must take,’ said Old Hsu. ‘I am no stranger to taking risks for justice’s sake. Only through courage might the Great Society be won.’

Cao scarcely knew what he was talking about, yet felt deep relief. She was no longer alone.

As the procession left Apricot Corner Court, other residents of Water Basin Ward joined them. Dr Shih was a popular man, not least because of his stewardship of the North Medical Relief Bureau. Just as significantly, people knew him as brother to their beloved Captain Xiao, hero of Swallow Gate. It seemed a cowardly thing to many that Dr Shih should be prosecuted when his brother was not in the city to support him. Others tagged along because the long siege had brought idleness. As the authorities understood, there was nothing so tinder-like as an idle mob. Especially during the dog days.

All formal trials in the Empire were public. Yet some were more public than others. When His Honour stepped onto the judge’s podium to occupy an ancient chair painted with images of King Chu Jiang, one of the Ten Kings of Hell, he blinked in surprise.

Over a hundred people were gathered in the long hall, held back by a dozen constables. Many more were squatting in the dusty square outside, including unchaperoned women. His Honour adjusted the papers and writing materials on his red-covered table. He straightened his moustache and tuft of beard.

An officer of the Guard hurried over.

‘Sir!’ he said, bringing his fists together in salute. ‘It seems these people wish to petition for one of the prisoners, sir.’

Madam Cao watched His Honour assess the crowd.

‘Do you want them cleared, sir?’ asked the officer.

‘No,’ said His Honour. ‘His Imperial Majesty’s justice does not hide. It may be seen by all his people, like the sun.’

Cao felt a shiver of premonition. Old Hsu the fan-maker knelt beside her. He raised an eyebrow as Apprentice Chung entered by a side door, accompanied by Dr Du Mau, who sported a golden belt-amulet showing his high office in the Guild of Physicians. Cao recoiled at the sight of Chung in fine new silks. It appeared he was trying to grow a man’s moustache. His plump face was flushed, sullen and afraid. His fear was justified: the accuser might become the accused in a moment.

Now she understood it all. How she had delivered poor Shih to his enemies through foolish indiscretions. How Chung had avoided his conscription as a bomb-maker in the Bureau of Righteous Fire. She buried her gaze in the earth.

Finally, another side door opened and Dr Shih emerged, assisted by one of the gaolers. Two weeks in the Prefectural prison had robbed his face of all colour. His wrists were raw from the chafing of iron manacles, his legs unsteady. Cao gasped at how thin he had grown. Dr Du Mau examined him curiously, too, except the only emotion he showed was a twitch in the corner of his mouth and a brooding glance at young Chung.

The latter seemed to find the floor of great interest – anywhere sooner than look at his former master or the ranks of kneeling people, many of whom were friends from Apricot Corner Court. He was particularly assiduous at avoiding Madam Cao’s anxious face.