Sandalwood Death: A Novel (Chinese Literature Today Book Series)

position, her challenge, and her grievance. Meiniang wavered. Bending down to pick it up would feed the First Lady’s vanity; by refusing the offer, Meiniang could retain her dignity. Picking it up would satisfy the First Lady; not picking it up would outrage her. Satisfying the First Lady would establish a covenant for the love between Meiniang and the Magistrate; outraging the First Lady would erect a barrier between them. She had detected in the Magistrate’s comments about his old-fashioned wife that he revered her. Her illustrious family may well have been a factor in that. For despite its recent decline, the Zeng family retained some of its influence. If the Magistrate could kneel before his wife, why should simply bending over bother Meiniang? And so she bent down and picked up the jade bodhisattva, all for the love of Magistrate Qian. And she did not stop there. One does not build a wall without digging up mud, so it was time to let the curtain fall on this drama. She went down on one knee, as if to show her gratitude for an unexpected favor.
    “This common woman thanks the First Lady for her grace.”
    The First Lady exhaled loudly.
    “Go,” she said. “The Magistrate is in the document room.”
    Meiniang got to her feet, picked up the basket of dog meat and millet spirits she’d brought with her, and started to walk off. But the First Lady called her to a halt. With her dark eyes focused on the window, not on Meiniang, she said:
    “He’s getting on in years, while you are young . . .”
    The First Lady’s hint was not lost on Sun Meiniang. Her face was burning, and she did not know what to say to that. The First Lady walked out of the Western Parlor and headed to the rear of the compound. A welter of emotions fought for primacy in her mind—loathing, love, the pride of winning, and the humiliation of losing.
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    9
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    The Magistrate’s appetite gradually returned under Meiniang’s ministrations, and he grew stronger each day. Clouds of melancholy creased his brow as he read the documents that had piled up during his illness.
    “Meiniang,” he said as he stroked her nicely rounded backside, “dear Meiniang, if I refuse to arrest your dieh, Excellency Yuan will arrest me.”
    Meiniang rolled over and sat up.
    “Magistrate, my dieh had good reason to attack the German. Yet they responded by killing my stepmother and siblings, and what’s more, they slaughtered twenty-four innocent civilians. Isn’t that enough? Why do they want my dieh arrested? Is this what people call justice?”
    With a bitter smile, the Magistrate said:
    “What does a woman know about such things?”
    Meiniang grabbed his beard and said coquettishly:
    “I may not know much about such things, but I know that my dieh is guilty of nothing.”
    The Magistrate sighed.
    “I never said he was. But I cannot disobey an order from my superior.”
    “Be a good man and let him off the hook,” Meiniang said as she moved seductively on his lap. “Is a County Magistrate powerless to protect an innocent member of the community?”
    “How can I make you understand, my precious?”
    Meiniang wrapped her arms around his neck and began rubbing her silken body against him enticingly.
    “Even by taking care of you the way I do, can I still not save my dieh?”
    “Enough,” the Magistrate said, “that is enough. A carriage cannot reach the mountain without a road, but a boat can sail even against the wind. Qingming is nearly here, Meiniang, and, as in the past, I am going to have a set of swings put up in the parade ground for your enjoyment. I will also plant peach trees as a gift to the people. I am doing these things this year, Meiniang, because I cannot say where I will be next year.”
    “By this time next year, you will have been promoted to Prefect, no, even higher!”
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    10
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    When he learned that Sun Bing had led an attack on the railroad shed on Qingming, the County Magistrate suffered a momentary lapse in his ability to function. He threw down the tool he was using to plant a peach tree and, without a word to anyone, crawled into his palanquin. He did not need to be told that his official career was about to end.
    Back at the yamen, he summoned his clerks and secretaries.
    “You must all know that today has signaled the end of this Magistrate’s official career,” he told them. “You are welcome to continue in your present positions and await the appointment of my