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

great wisdom and uncommon magnanimity have I had the audacity to make the request.”
    “Zhao Jia,” Excellency Yuan said, suddenly lowering his voice in an aura of mystery, “do you still recognize me?”
    “For someone as impressive and dignified as His Excellency, a single glance can last a lifetime.”
    “I do not mean now; I am talking about twenty-three years ago, when my uncle was Left Vice President of the Board of Punishments and I was a frequent visitor to the yamen when I had some free time. You had not met me then, had you?”
    With bad eyes and a poor memory, I truly had not known who he was. But I did know Yuan Baoheng, Excellency Yuan, who had bestowed favors on me at the time.
    “Truth is, how could I not recognize such a distinguished appearance? Back then, Excellency Yuan, you were a mischievous youngster. Your uncle wanted you to take up studies and make your name as a civil service scholar. But you were not scholar material, and you never missed an opportunity to come to the Eastern Compound to spend time with us. Once you gained an understanding of our rules and traditions, you talked Grandma Yu into letting you put on a set of executioner’s clothing without telling your uncle, then you smeared your smooth, round face with rooster blood and went with us to the marketplace for the execution of a criminal who had impudently hunted a rabbit near the Imperial Mausoleum and disturbed the sleep of deceased emperors. I pulled the criminal’s queue to expose his neck while you raised your sword and, with no change of expression and a steady hand, needed but one chop to separate him from his head. When it was all over, your uncle learned what you had done and slapped you in front of us. We were so terrified we fell to our knees and banged our heads on the floor as if we were crushing cloves of garlic. ‘You miserable wretch,’ your uncle exploded, ‘how dare you do something like that!’ But you leaped to your own defense: ‘Do not be angry, revered uncle; killing someone during a crime is a heinous offense, but killing someone who has committed a crime is an act of patriotism. Your unworthy nephew is determined to make his name on the battlefield, and the reason I assumed the appearance today was to fortify my courage for the future.’ Your uncle continued to rage, but we all knew that he was looking at you with increased respect . . .”
    “Old Zhao, you are too smart a man,” a smiling Excellency Yuan said, “not to recognize me. You are afraid I will blame you for what happened. In truth, I do not regard what happened as anything to be ashamed of. Back when I was studying with my uncle in the Board of Punishments, I read up on the executioner’s trade and benefited greatly from it. Going with you to execute that criminal was a rare and unforgettable experience that has had a major impact on my life, and I have summoned you here today to thank you.”
    I responded with more kowtows and expressions of gratitude.
    “Get up,” Excellency Yuan said. “Go back to Peking and wait there, quite possibly for welcome news.”
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    5
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A civil zhuangyuan, a military zhuangyuan, a civil and military zhuangyuan, for as they say, every profession has its zhuangyuan. I am the zhuangyuan of executioners. Son, the Empress Dowager Herself bestowed this designation on me, and the precious words that come out of Her mouth are not mere pleasantries.
    — Maoqiang Sandalwood Death. A father and son duet
    News of the Tianjin executions and the informal audience with Yuan Shikai created ripples of excitement in the Board of Punishments compound. My fellow tradesmen gave me curious looks, a mixture of envy and admiration. Even mid-level bureau officials, the various vice directors who came to work carrying their official clothing in a bundle, nodded silent greetings that told me that these graduates of the Imperial Examination had begun to see me in a different light. I would be lying if I said this displeased me, but I refused to let it go to my head. A lifetime in the yamen had taught me that the ocean is deeper than a pond and that flames are hotter than cinders. I did not have to be told that the tallest tree stands beneath the heavens, the tallest man is dwarfed by a mountain, and the brawniest slave obeys his master. On my second day back in the capital, the Board’s Vice President, Excellency Tie, summoned me to his document room, where the Deputy Director of the Bureau of