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

Shanzi, who accepted it but said with what looked to be much embarrassment:
    “I can’t let you serve me like this, Shifu.”
    Zhu Ba picked up the second bowl and clinked it against Xiao Shanzi’s, loud enough for all of us to hear it and hard enough to splash out some of the contents. Their eyes met, and to us sparks seemed to fly, like steel striking a flint. Their lips were quaking, and they both seemed about to speak—but they didn’t. Instead, they tipped back their heads and, with audible glugs, emptied the bowls. Zhu Ba laid down his bowl and tore off a drumstick with the skin attached. He handed it to Xiao Shanzi, who took it and seemed about to say something. But still nothing. A moment later, his mouth was stuffed to capacity with roast chicken, which rotated twice before it slipped down his throat like a greased rat. I’d have loved to run home to cook a dog’s leg for him, but there was no time for that, since a dog’s leg had to cook all day and all night. Now that he’d eaten the meat, he gnawed on the bone to pick it clean, almost as if to show us what his teeth could do. The image was of a squirrel chewing on an acorn. Though they were undeniably yellow, they were solid teeth. As soon as the tendons were picked clean, he started in on the bone itself, which produced the most noise. Not a single thing emerged from that mouth, not even bone chips. You poor man. If I’d known earlier that you were willing to die in my dieh’s stead, I’d have invited you to a sumptuous feast, making sure you got a taste of the best food anywhere. Too bad life does not allow for predictions or do-overs. As soon as Xiao Shanzi finished off one drumstick, Zhu Ba tore off the other one and held it out for him. But this time, Xiao Shanzi cupped his hands respectfully in front of him and said devotedly:
    “I thank Shifu for giving me this opportunity!”
    Then he reached behind him, picked up a broken brick, and smacked himself in the mouth, producing a dull thud. A front tooth fell to the ground, and blood spurted from his mouth.
    Everyone froze, staring and speechless. Their gazes bounced back and forth between Xiao Shanzi’s bloody mouth and the gloomy face of Zhu Ba, who moved the tooth around on the floor with his index finger, then looked up at Hou Xiaoqi.
    “How many teeth did Sun Bing lose?”
    “Two, according to Fourth Master.”
    “Are you sure that’s what he said?”
    “I’m sure, Eighth Master.”
    “After what you’ve done,” Zhu Ba said to Xiao Shanzi, his awkwardness showing, “I don’t have the heart to ask you to do it again.”
    “There’s no reason to feel bad, Shifu. Once, twice, what’s the difference?” Xiao Shanzi said, blood bubbling from his mouth. He picked the brick up again.
    “Wait—” Zhu Ba cried out.
    But too late—Xiao Shanzi smacked himself in the mouth a second time.
    He tossed the brick away and lowered his head. Two teeth fell to the ground.
    The sight of the gaping hole in Xiao Shanzi’s mouth drove Zhu Ba into a frenzy.
    “You dumb bastard,” he cursed, “I told you to wait. Now you’ve knocked out too many teeth, damn it! With too few we could have figured something out, but what are we going to do now?”
    “Don’t get mad, Shifu, I’ll keep my mouth shut the whole time,” Xiao Shanzi said with a pronounced slur.
    ————
    3
    ————
    In the middle of the night I draped a tattered jacket over my shoulders, as instructed by Zhu Ba, added a beat-up old straw hat, and quietly exited the temple in the company of the beggars. There wasn’t a sound on the deserted streets, which were suffused in the chilled green of beams sent down from a full moon, painting everything with ghostly airs. I shivered and my teeth chattered, the clicking sound striking my eardrums with such force I was afraid I might wake up the whole town.
    Hou Xiaoqi led the way with his monkey, followed by Xiao Luanzi, who was carrying a spade and was the group’s tunneling advance guard. Xiao Lianzi, the undisputed master of tree climbing, walked alongside Xiao Luanzi, a leather rope girding his waist. Next in line was that valiant figure Xiao Shanzi, he of great virtue—upholder of allegiance, defender of righteousness and morality, disfigurer of his own face, death-defying—a man whose name was destined for eternal glory. I watched as he walked along, never wavering, his gait firm and steady, bold and spirited, almost as if he were on his way to a fine year-ending