The Corpse Reader (12 page)

From under the blanket, Cí could hear Wang asking the robbers to help with his wealthy master, who had suddenly fallen ill. They began discussing a price. Heart hammering, and nearly overcome by the rancid smell of fish in the skiff, Cí waited for the signal. But suddenly, silence.

Something’s wrong.

“Now!” shouted Wang.

Cí sprang to his feet, swinging a pole at the man nearest to him and hitting him in the gut. Wang did the same with the man at the stern. Both wobbled on the edge of the barge and, after receiving another blow each, toppled into the water.
Ze wasn’t so lucky: the third man had drawn a dagger and was advancing on him. But Cí and Wang used their poles to push him into the river. Ze slapped the prostitute, pushed her to the deck, and stood over her. While Wang used his pole to keep the three robbers from reboarding, Cí ran through the cargo shouting for Third. He quickly grew desperate, but then heard a tiny voice from among the sacks. Under a sheet, there she was, clinging tightly to her doll. She looked even more ill than before and very frightened.

When Cí asked that the prostitute be allowed to stay aboard, Wang rolled his eyes in disbelief.

“They made her do it. And she saved my sister.”

“It’s true,” said Third, who was hiding behind Cí’s legs.

“You’ll believe anything! Open your eyes! This ‘flower’ is bitter and thorny—they’re all the same. She’ll say anything to try and save herself.”

They had pushed off from the tributary, staving off the bandits with the poles and heading to the far side of the river, where the current was too strong for the bandits to swim through.

Cí tried again to persuade Wang.

“Why should I?” continued Wang, exasperated. “She probably only looked after your little sister so she could sell her to a brothel. I ought to throw her in the water for the robbing, lying serpent she is. Stop arguing and help me with this wood.”

Cí looked at Peach Blossom, who was crouched down, appearing so pitiful she reminded him of a stray dog that had been beaten so mercilessly that it could trust no one. Her suffering seemed a reflection of his own.

“I’ll pay for her passage,” said Cí.

“Wait, is my hearing playing tricks on me? Did I just hear you say that?”

“I guess so,” said Cí, turning to his sister and taking the 5,000-
qián
note from her jacket. “This,” he said, thrusting it at Wang, “should get the three of us to Lin’an.”

“Why…you said you didn’t have anything else! Well, it’s your money. Do what you want with it. The harpy is your problem, but when she plucks out your eyes, don’t come crying to me.”

By midday, they’d repaired the barge: the bundles of reeds had been assembled and the straw and tar caulks had stopped the leak. Wang and Ze each took a celebratory swig of rice liquor. Meanwhile, Cí continued to bail the water that threatened to rot the wood cargo. He was almost done when Wang came over.

“Hey, kid. I wanted to say thanks.”

“I don’t deserve your thanks, sir. I was an idiot to let the girl come aboard like that…”

“Enough, enough. It wasn’t all your fault. I made you stay aboard, and my other sailor just wandered off. On the bright side, I’m rid of one useless sailor, we’ve got the boat back, and,” he said with a laugh, “we’ve been saved from a fair bit of paddling!”

Cí agreed. “The robbers did a good amount of that work for us!”

Wang examined the side of the boat. Looking concerned once more, he spat in the river.

“I don’t like the idea of stopping in Xiongjiang. There’s nothing to be gained hanging around this county—a slit throat maybe, if you’re lucky.” Parting his jacket, he showed a long scar running across his chest. “Robbers and whores, the lot of them! Not a good place to buy supplies, but we’ll probably have to do it anyway. That caulk won’t last much more than a day.”

After a quick meal of boiled rice and carp, they set off toward the City of Death, Wang’s name for Xiongjiang. As they traveled along the river, Cí’s thoughts turned to Feng—how much he admired the judge, and how he hoped Feng’s mission wouldn’t keep him away from Lin’an for too long—and then to his parents, the memory of whom saddened Cí immediately. Third came over to where he was sitting, and she could see something was wrong. He said he just felt a little ill and then cut her a slice of the ham. He carried her to the stern, where they sat together.

Soon the prostitute joined them. “I heard you before,” said Peach Blossom. “When you were defending me, I mean.”

“Don’t get involved,” he said. “I did it for my sister.” The prostitute’s proximity made him uncomfortable.

“Do you still think I’m going to trick you?”

“Who wouldn’t?”

“This is exactly what I mean!” she said, standing up. “I thought for a moment you might be different. That perhaps you’d seen something in me. You have no idea what a girl like me has been through. I’ve worked since I was a child, and all I have for it is this dirty, battered body, lice in my hair, beggars’ rags…”

She broke down crying, but Cí was unmoved.

“I don’t need to know,” he said, getting up and looking back along the boat at Wang. The old captain stood at the rudder; with his chin lifted and eyes half-closed, he radiated calm. Cí didn’t want to get into an argument with the prostitute. He didn’t feel like doing much at all.

As he watched over Third, Cí was surprised to catch himself glancing furtively at Peach Blossom every now and then. He was increasingly captivated by her graceful movements, the apparent delicacy of her gaze, the softness of her complexion, the very faint flush to her cheeks.

Why have I wasted the last of my money on her?

The next time he glanced over, he was shocked to find her looking straight back at him; it was like a sudden flash of light in the dark, illuminating his most intimate depths. He couldn’t break free of her gaze.

She seemed to float toward him in the dark, then took his hand and led him to the empty skiff, which was tied up alongside the barge. His heart trembled as she moved her hands underneath his shirt, and he quivered as they moved down his body. She trapped him with her kisses, absorbed him through her lips. Cí failed to understand anything—why he felt suspicious even while all his pain was being quenched, why he felt afraid when her sweet, honeyed body seemed to be dissolving his very senses—

“No!” cried Cí as Peach Blossom tried to take his shirt off.

She didn’t understand how embarrassed he was by his scars, but he let her take his pants off. Then she was astride him.

He thought he was going to die as the girl’s hips moved slowly and deliberately in a deep, continuous sway. She pushed down on him as though she would take every last bit of him inside her. She guided his hands onto her small breasts and moaned as he caressed her, sparking something in him, making him drunk with delight, transporting him somewhere unknown.

The next morning, Wang found Cí in the skiff, sleeping as deeply as if he’d been drunk. Wang woke him, laughing heartily.

“Now I see why you wanted to keep her, eh! Come on, get yourself together and help with rowing. The City of Death won’t wait forever.”

Cí shuddered at the sight of the City of Death. In Wang’s view, to dock there was to engage in a dangerous game of chance. The place was infested with outlaws, fugitives, traffickers, cardsharps—all of them ready to bleed dry any foreigner. But as the barge approached, the wharf area, swathed in mist, looked abandoned, and the crews of the hundreds of docked boats were nowhere to be seen. Even the water lapping against the boats’ sides seemed particularly gloomy.

“Be on your guard,” whispered Wang.

They glided toward the primary dock and began to see people running between the warehouses. Cí looked down just as a dead body, surrounded by a bloody spew, floated past. Other bodies floated nearby.

“The plague!” cried Ze.

Wang nodded, and Third and Peach Blossom came and huddled next to Cí. He tried to discern the shore, but the mist was too thick.

“We’ll go on downstream,” Wang said. “You,” he added, addressing Peach Blossom, “grab a pole and help.”

Instead of doing as she was told, Peach Blossom grabbed Third and made as if to throw her into the water. Third struggled hard and began to cry. The prostitute’s face had become a wicked mask.

“The money!” she shouted. “Give me the money or I swear I’ll throw her in!”

“What are you doing?” cried Cí, stepping forward.

“One more step…” warned Peach Blossom.

“Careful, Cí!” cried Wang. “The water’s poisonous!”

Cí stopped; he’d heard about the terrible illness contained in this area’s river water. He begged Wang to give Peach Blossom the money, but the old man stood firm, glaring at her.

“I’ve got a better idea,” the captain said, taking a pole and pointing it at her. “Let the girl go, and scram. Otherwise I’m going to stick this pole right up inside you and throw you in the water.”

“The money!” she screeched.

“What are you doing?” cried Cí. “Give her the money!”

Wang dropped his head and began lowering the pole, but then he deftly swung it, catching Peach Blossom on the side of the head and knocking her off balance, though not into the water. Third jumped away, but Peach Blossom managed to grab Third’s ankle and push her into the water. Third had never learned to swim, and she sank like a stone. Cí dived in after her.